


how high the mountains rise

by counterheist



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5 Times, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Humor, Being A Teenager With A Crush Is The Absolute Worst, Border Guard AU, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Donut AU, Elderly Poodle Makkachin, F/F, Fancy Hotel AU, Feelings, Frozen AU, Gen, Host club AU, Katsuki Yuuri's Delicious Tears, Kidfic, M/M, Magic AU, Manhandling, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Heartbreaker Katsuki Yuuri, Parks & Rec AU, Past Drug Use, Quidditch AU, Suicidal Thoughts, Yuuri Eats Mall Food When He Is Sad, a lot of this is proto fic, garlic butter fetish, horrorterror makkachin, minami and yuri are in their early 20s when they do it, tree vampires, tsn AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-07 15:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 70
Words: 43,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10363338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: Collection of fic and proto-fic from my tumblr. Title is definitely from Theme of King JJ. I don't know how my life turned out this way.





	1. 5 times yuuri became aware of yurio's terrible teenage crush on him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kevystel asked: top 5 times yuuri became aware of yurio's terrible teenage crush on him and tactfully ignored it

\- 5 - 

“Ah,” Yuuri starts. Stops.

This has been happening for the last twenty minutes. Yuri would have hung up by now if it had been anyone else who had called him at 6 in the morning. But it’s Yuuri, so. He waits.

“I think you accidentally had an item shipped to the inn,” Yuuri finally says. “My mother gave it to me this morning. By mistake. It says Yuri on the package so.”

He stops. Yuri continues to wait, because acknowledging the nature of his most recent purchase would be madness and probably would end him. So he doesn’t do that. He waits.

“Is there. The best forwarding address to send it to you. What would that be?”

Yuri lists off Lilia’s street address and prays to the quad gods that Yuuri did not open his very expensive limited edition official Katsuki Yuuri dakimakura (sexy vers).

[spoilers: he definitely did that and regrets doing that so much]

\- 4 -

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “Yura left his notebook! Viktor, go on, I’ll return this to him. I’ll meet you back at the apartment.”

Viktor goes on with reluctance and makes sure Yuuri is fully aware of just how reluctant that reluctance is. They have been engaged for five days. They should already be on their honeymoon by now, is all Viktor’s trying to say.

Yuuri looks at the notebook he found underneath the spot Yurio had been sitting earlier. It’s a black moleskine. It reminds Yuuri of Starbucks and pretension. He means to put it in his coat pocket, but he fumbles the slick surface and it opens. He doesn’t mean to pry.

 _…and i just wish he’d notice me_ , he reads. Oh no. Oh no this is _that_ kind of notebook. Yuuri is not going to pry. He isn’t. He will not be that kind of friend.

He pries.

_Yuri <3Yuuri misters yuri and yuri plisetsky misters yuri and yuri katsuki_

He regrets prying.

He focuses very sternly on a spot to the left of Yurio’s ear when he returns the notebook.

[but not before asking Viktor to translate some of it despite himself. Viktor faithfully texts back ‘ _god i wish he’d put my head between his thighs and let me sleep there’_ and Yuuri finally learns his lesson.]

\- 3 -

There is an interview with a teen magazine. It’s in French, and Yuuri wouldn’t bother because he’s learned his lesson, but Chris mails him a copy and he does like supporting Yurio. More copies sold means more support, right? That’s how Viktor justifies the thirty copies of Yuuri’s GQ interview on their coffee table alone? Yuuri has learned his lesson?? And Yuuri would leave that at that, because English and the bare bones of Russian are quite enough for him as foreign languages go, languages have never come as easily to him as they have to Viktor, but Chris has also helpfully included a full translation of the interview on a succession of vibrant purple post its shaped like dolphins.

There’s an entire section devoted to Yurio’s “Perfect Type”:

\- well-traveled  
\- well-educated (college degrees are so sexy)  
\- older  
\- driven  
\- dark hair  
\- cute bangs  
\- glasses  
\- tallish but not, like, freakishly tall  
\- the embodiment of sexual love  
\- likes the color blue  
\- likes dogs, i guess, i don’t know why he doesn’t like cats more

Yuuri stops reading and buries the magazine between two books he’s never seen Viktor choose from their bookshelf.

[Chris obviously sent Viktor his own copy. Gotta know your enemy even when your enemy is your son. For Viktor’s copy the notes were commentary instead of translations, because Chris is fully aware Viktor is fluent in French.]

\- 2 -

After The ‘Giving So Much Alcohol To A Minor Viktor How _Could_ You’ Incident Yuuri realizes he has three missed calls on his phone he ignored in his rage. The first and the last are from Viktor. The first is mostly intelligible, and discusses such important things as how much Viktor loves Yuuri, which hockey players are the worst at their jobs, and how proud Viktor is of his son. The last is more attempts at words than words. Yuuri thinks he hears Viktor go on a tangent about how Yuuri is the air he breathes, but it could equally have been a tangent about he wants Yuuri to step on his face. Yuuri has heard both tangents sober, before, and they are surprisingly similar.

The middle message is from Yurio.

Yuuri listens to it.

He deletes it.

[He drinks all of Viktor’s hangover cure “Vodka cancels out vodka, _Yuuuuri_. Everybody knows that!” He pretends it’s a punishment.]

\- 1 -

He and Yurio are both scheduled for Skate America in the fall. Yurio debuts his controversial When I Think About You I Touch Myself / She Will Be Loved program to a furious International Skating Union and a thrilled legion of Yuri’s Angels. Yurio points at Yuuri at the end of both his short program and his free skate.

“His step sequences have gotten so much better after another summer working with Madame Baranovskaya,” Yuuri says to the ceiling, stonefaced.

[Viktor gives Yurio a standing ovation because he is a terrible, terrible man.]


	2. 5 times yuuri protected phichit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> runespoor7 asked: top 5 times Yuuri protected Phichit.
> 
> This is saved on my hard drive as ‘5 times baconator’. I really meant to make this short. Whoops!

1\. He swings open the door leading out of the Arby’s and accidentally hits someone in the face. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri says automatically. He doesn’t mean it. It’s one in the morning and he’s at an Arby’s. He might be incredibly sorry right now, but it’s the kind you are, not that you feel.

The other guy is wearing a tight T-shirt and skinny jeans, and is currently curled up on the ground holding his head. Yuuri starts to feel a little sorry for real. He didn’t mean to push the door so hard! He just wants to go back to his dorm and eat his feelings and the door was in the way of that.

Suddenly someone else rushes up to Yuuri and grabs the ends of Yuuri’s gloves. “Thanks! My hero!” Stranger #2 chirps. He’s wearing a baggier shirt but even tighter jeans. His eyelids are covered in glittery shadow. “He wouldn’t leave me alone!”

Yuuri calmly tries to pull his hands away. His food is getting cold. This stranger is standing too close.

“Do they get mad if you bring that in here?” Stranger #2 removes his hands on his own to crouch down and stare at the bags crushed together in Yuuri’s left hand. There’s the Arby’s bag, of course, but then there is the Wendy’s bag behind it. Stranger #2 is pointing at the Wendy’s bag.

Yuuri feels judged.

“…I wanted onion rings,” he says. He also wanted a Baconator. Wendy’s does not have onion rings. Arby’s does not have Baconators. And so. As he is constantly reminded, This Is America, land of Doing Whatever He Wants. What his coach doesn’t know doesn’t matter, because Yuuri will put himself through all the 6am stair sets he needs to to allow himself the gross sobbing consumption of the two greasy bags of glory he’s got.

“Ooooooh,” Stranger #2 says, “I’m Phichit. Can I have some?”

 

2\. They aren’t instant friends. No one will believe Yuuri or Phichit when they say so later, but it’s true. Yuuri gives Phichit the smallest onion ring in his Arby’s bag before jogging off to hide himself in his dorm. Phichit eats it and orders more. He takes a selfie sitting alone inside the Arby’s because he’s only been in America for 2 weeks and he meets his new coach tomorrow and that will be the end of American fast food or American portions for a good long while and he wants proof he’s experienced it.

They chat about coincidences when they meet again at the DSC.

But they aren’t instant friends. Yuuri is too busy worrying about qualifiers. Phichit’s too busy having the world’s largest crush on his new hero, his Japanese white knight, and when Phichit has a crush he comes on _strong_. They’re friendly, but they’re not friends until Phichit steals the keys to the rink and makes copies and uses the ice alone at night to practice.

He’s not the worst student there. But he’s nowhere near the best – near Yuuri – and if Phichit wants to make history for Thailand he has to be better than he is. He has to _practice_ , and the best time to practice is when he has the whole space to himself.

He doesn’t count on it being really obvious when the ice is cut up in the morning even though the zamboni resurfaced it the evening before. Phichit needs to learn how to drive a zamboni.

Celestino is ballistic, threatening expulsion as soon as he finds out who the culprit is, and Phichit begins to wonder if he’s made a mistake. And then Yuuri steps out of the nervous crowd of skaters. Only a handful of them are even Celestino’s students, but somehow he’s gotten the whole rink to stop its business and listen to him.

“It was me,” Yuuri says, face dead serious. Phichit would believe him if he didn’t have his stolen spares in the same pocket as his phone. “You know how I like to practice when I’m stressed.” He bows, low. “I apologize,” he says to the ground.

After practice Yuuri puts a hand on Phichit’s shoulder. “I would have done it too if I had thought of it,” he says.

That’s when they become friends.

 

3\. Phichit’s roommate’s name is Brad. Brad likes to talk. Brad likes to talk about Phichit when he’s not in the room. “I mean, good for him, you know,” Brad tells Yuuri. Phichit is in the bathroom. “Like, dressing like that and all. Like you’ve seen his eyeliner. Wow, right?”

Yuuri has said similar things before, but he’s never said them in a tone like that. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like Brad.

“You’re going to switch rooms with me at the end of the semester,” Yuuri says suddenly. He does his best to channel Mari. Mari when she’s mad. Mad Mari when she was in that biker girl gang.

Without much prompting Brad agrees.

Later Phichit doesn’t think to ask. He’s just thrilled his son wants to live with him.

 

4\. Cascada is telling them to evacuate the dance floor. Phichit disobeys her direct order because he is enjoying himself too much. He is infected by the sound. Not, he peers over through the press of bodies and light and sound, not as much as Yuuri is, but still.

It’s Friday – maybe Saturday, they’ve been here for a long time. Phichit’s shirt is sticky from the shots they poured from the stage like ten songs ago. His hair is wet. He hopes his makeup isn’t smudged. There are three very tall American boys grinding up on him right now, like a blonde triangle of fun. Tall and blond isn’t so much Phichit’s thing and he’s wondering whether he should find a polite way to swap with Yuuri – who is so about tall and blond it’s kind of hilarious – but then Blond #1 slides his hands where Phichit does not quite want his hands to be and the evening suddenly goes from the music taking him underground to a Bermuda plane crash.

Phichit dances a step back.

The triangle closes in.

He’s about to demonstrate just how strong twelve years of figure skating has made his legs when Blond #1 stumbles to the side, giving Phichit an opening. He takes it, sliding through the crowd towards where he saw Yuuri last. He wants to go home now. Maybe stop by somewhere to pick up food.

Yuuri is no longer there.

Yuuri, Phichit discovers when he turns towards the shouting behind him, has decked Blond #1 and is well on his way to rendering Blonds #2 and #3 unconscious. Somehow he’s still dancing.

  
5\. “I’ll cut it off,” Yuuri says so matter of factly Chris almost doesn’t register the words.

He stills, then withdraws his hand.

 

+1

“I THOUGHT I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN TO COCKBLOCK ME LIKE THAT,” Phichit mentions, maybe, maybe a little bit loud in the hotel after their free skate. “I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU BUT YUURI. YUURI REALLY.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was really _really_ tempted to turn the first part into a fic of its own. i am just too damn attached to yuuri making poor food decisions because of his emotions. am i projecting idk idk but it’s hilarious. i want 5 times yuuri has found himself in an arby’s at 1am. 5 combo meals yuuri has eaten + the accompanying anecdotes. 5 fast casual dining experiences yuuri is now banned from.


	3. yuuri can't anxiety eat in sochi because he doesn't know where to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlo asked: Okay but lbr, the only reason Yuuri doesn't anxiety eat after that conversation with Yurio is because he doesn't know where to go for junk in St Petersburg yet
> 
> (I TOTALLY MISINTERPRETED THIS ONE BTW)

so celestino tries to get him to go somewhere, enjoy himself, but yuuri refuses. he goes back to the hotel and he prepares himself for some dedicated Feeling Terrible About Himself And His Failures As Outlined To Him By A Child except then he gets there and realizes there’s no restaurant on the ground floor. he has no idea where to go for cheap grease in sochi. do they even have 7-11s here? jack in the box???

he calls down to the front desk, which is hard enough on its own, only to find the kitchens have had a problem with the exhaust fan so no room service. so sorry. and maybe yuuri has a half-crushed bag of funyuns phichit snuck into the bottom of his suitcase, but that’s nowhere near enough and just looking at it makes yuuri want to cry again because he’s going to have to go back to detroit and face the way people are going to look at him - like they knew all along he couldn’t make it - and he could go walk around the block and see what he can find but he’d probably fall and crack his skull because falling down is all he’s good at.

and he definitely doesn’t want to go to the banquet.

traditions be damned.

sponsors be damned.

what sponsors.

but then celestino’s pounding on his door, telling him to at least make an appearance, and well. maybe if yuuri can’t eat he can drink. just one glass.


	4. CANON where viktor actually does the dishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zike said: au where viktor nikiforov actually does the fucking dishes

“Why are there candles,” Yuuri asks upon opening the apartment door. He keeps his shoes on as he walks further into the room - in case he needs to run out quickly again. The last time there were candles was Viktor’s way of telling Yuuri he had bought the upstairs apartment and was planning to install a pole between floors like in that princess movie.

“Does there need to be a reason?” Viktor shouts from the kitchen.

Their apartment smells like vanilla and secrets.

Yuuri sets down his backpack so he can run away faster. If necessary.

When he rounds the hallway into the combined kitchen/living area he takes it all in. There are even more candles, lit. There are peonys everywhere, and tulips. Hothouse flowers Yuuri doesn’t know the names of. Yuuri is certain they are going to die in a residential fire because even though their living room has become a flower shop it _still_ mostly smells like vanilla. Makkachin is wearing a crown of yellow rosebuds.

Viktor is wearing a light blue apron and standing at the sink. His hands are covered in suds. He’s doing the dishes. He might be washing already-clean dishes, because Yuuri is sure he already ran the washer after breakfast. He’s not wearing anything besides the apron.

“Yes,” Yuuri says.

(it takes ten minutes for Yuuri to pry the reason out of viktor. the reason is a box of puppies sleeping in the other room. ‘they were by the bridge and i couldn’t just leave them-’ #evenmoregranddogs)


	5. yuuri + questionable combo meals + anxiety eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: omg please tell us about the fast food franchises Yuuri has been banned from. or his combo meal anecdotes. I don't care which I love these
> 
> OKAY ANON WILL DO LIFE IS PAIN FOOD IS THE ONLY THING THAT DOESN’T HURT

**1 whopper jr + 2 chicken fries + 1 spicy crispy chicken jr (extra sauce) + 3 sm fries + 1 rg diet coke**

“Just the one coke?” Olivia asks. She’s not trying to suss out whether this guy has someone else he’s bringing food back to. She’s not. And even if she is it’s because she’s afraid he’ll die of a heart attack if he eats all of his order himself. She’s worked four shifts already this week and this is the fifth time she’s seen him in here. God she wishes he’d pay with card sometime so she could learn his real name.

“Hm,” he nods.

He’s wearing a sloppy paper crown. It’s lopsided, hanging over his left ear. It says Burger King on it about ten times because it is two of their regular crowns taped together.

Everybody calls him Burger King when they’re not calling him That Poor Boy.

Burger King retreats to a sticky plastic table and takes out his phone. There are only two other people in the place right now and they’ve already been served, so Mandy alternates between helping prepare Burger King’s order and staring unapologetically at the soft curve of his cheeks. She and Marcus slather the spicy crispy chicken jr in so much sauce they can’t tell if the lettuce was ever there. They imagine it getting all over Burger King’s hands and face. Dripping down his neck. Marcus has to excuse himself. Olivia doesn’t blame him.

**1 double cheese burger inside 2 filet-o-fish + 1 lg fries + 1 m &m mcflurry**

Sam and Alex have a bet. If that sad boy from Sam’s Intro Bio class ever orders something less than 1000 calories Alex gets to ask him on a date and it counts as a fuckception. Beautiful International Student Who Eats Badly is the only non-celebrity on Alex’s exceptions list. He is also, probably, the least obtainable.

“If I assembled his burger monstrosity for him do you think he’d appreciate it or get mad at me,” Sam asks one night while they watch Beautiful International Student Who Eats Badly place a handful of fries between a layer of cheese and fish.

“Which one are you angling for?”

“Not sure.”

Beautiful International Student Who Eats Badly’s shirt rides up when he accidentally knocks a ketchup packet on the ground and bends to retrieve it. Alex would have expected his hips to be as round and soft as his face but they’re not; they’re strong, and tight, and wow. _Wow_. What kind of life does he lead that he eats like _that_ but looks like _that_? Does he spend every waking moment not hunched over a desk at an Intro Bio lecture or slumped at a table at McDonald’s working out?

“I got the treadmill behind him at the gym once,” Sam says.

And that’s new information. That’s it. They’re breaking up. “Why didn’t you **call** me?” Alex shouts, too loud, oops. Beautiful International Student Who Eats Badly And Is Also Shredded Like A Bowl Of Mini Wheats jerks in his seat. He looks over at them. He makes eye contact for the very first time. He is at the _top_ of Alex’s list.

“Because I knew you would try to jump him while he was trying to work out and then he’d stop and I’d lose my view.”

He is also, coincidentally, at the top of Sam’s list too.

**A #5 with extra hot peppers and cucumbers and mayo, with crumbled cool ranch chips on top + a regular sprite turned into a vodka tonic**

Yuuri only orders from Jimmy John’s when he is more desperate than sad and he doesn’t want to get up from the carrel he’s set up camp in at the back of the library for fear of losing his spot. You are only here on a scholarship and Celestino’s kindness, the voices in his head tell him. They can deport you whenever they want. Stop looking at gifs of Viktor Nikiforov’s butt while he skates. Stop looking at gifs of Viktor Nikiforov’s butt while he’s not skating. Feed us.

He does the last one by ordering a sandwich because Jimmy John’s delivers and the librarians don’t get as mad as they did that one time Yuuri had Domino’s bring him a pizza on the fourth floor.

Yuuri stops ordering from Jimmy John’s sometime towards the beginning of his first senior year because he no longer has to. Not because he stops being sad, or desperate, or because he stops looking at gifs of Viktor Nikiforov’s butt and buckles down and studies. None of those things are the case. But towards the beginning of his first senior year the many bicyclists of Jimmy John’s begin handing Yuuri sandwiches for no reason and he stops needing to call.

He will be walking through campus and a panting bicyclist with a recognizable cap and one pant leg rolled up will hand him a little bag. Inside the little bag will be four sandwiches. Yuuri will wonder if he looks _that_ pathetic that _total strangers_ feel sorry enough for him to give him free food. Or if his face is really common and generic and they think they’re delivering to someone else.

He stops thinking the second one after the delivery bicyclists start handing him, exclusively, the thing he always used to order – and then make with two bags of chips from the vending machine and a flask he snuck into the library, how did they know??. So it’s the first one then. Great. Amazing.


	6. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kevystel asked: VAMPIRE AU
> 
> you fucker

so i have thought about this because of the whole won’t kiss silver thing. logical conclusion right? i expect many other people have come to that conclusion too, except i have 0% desire to read a vampire fic so i have not gone looking for it. but i would clearly still write one if given sufficient motivation. (see: that series on ao3 i have called ‘vampire au, i swear to god i can’t believe i have a’).

now if i DID do a vampire AU i would have to make viktor the vampire because he started it and his name is viktor. possibly the entire russian skating family are all vampires. or it’s just viktor and georgi because i like the idea of viktor and georgi having had to exist within each other’s spaces for a thousand years. 

what i’m less sure of is whether i’d make yuuri the son of a long line of vampire hunters or just some guy. viktor’s seen a lot of ‘just some guy’s in his longass old man life. undeadness. he considers molding new lives around them a game because he dislikes having to live as himself. it’s a real downer. he maybe only does it once every fifty years, if that. or maybe both is going on in this AU. yuuri is the son of a long line of vampire hunters, so he knows some things, but he’s not much for vampire hunting. that’s always been mari’s thing. yuuri’s always preferred documenting their family history and taking care of the family library. the entire hunting guild’s library. this has now also become a librarian!yuuri AU. you’re welcome.

librarian!yuuri spends a lot of his time inside. his fingers are permanently inkstained from restoring old documents. he has terrible eyesight from reading in low light. his personal project is scanning all the knowledge the guild has accumulated over the years. it’s stupid how many hunters/just some guys have died because the information was there but buried in sixteen feet of poorly-rolled parchment. there’s such a thing as searchable text these days, guys, _come on_.

viktor waltzes into his life because viktor has a low sense of self-preservation and an odd sense of humor. he walks up to the guild’s front - is it an onsen? did it used to be an onsen and is now a bubble tea store?? - and begins to hang out for funsies. he asks annoying questions that make yuuri question the veracity of the primary sources he’s been working with since he was ten. vampire viktor most definitely has a death wish, sorry to bring you down, because he’s been alive for too long and nothing ever changes. sorry, kids, your vintage misery always looks better on viktor. he’s done.

i lost where i’m going with this.

so viktor hangs out around the periphery of yuuri’s life and then gravitates closer and closer to the center of it. he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. yuuri doesn’t realize he’s doing it. EVERYBODY ELSE REALIZES HE’S DOING IT. mari sees it happening for a hot second and preps a silver-tipped crossbow bolt immediately. she writes viktor’s name on it with a sharpie. she gives her brother daily bags of garlic bread. she makes him wear a lot of the jewelry she bought in her teenage goth phase.

turns out this makes yuuri even more attractive to viktor. and he gets to thinking. huh. maybe if i come on to this kid his sister will shoot me and i can finally fucking die. BUT SORRY, VIKTOR, TOO BAD. YOUR PLAN IS GARBAGE. YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM INSTEAD. SUCKS TO BE YOU, VIKTOR. WILL HE EVER BE ABLE TO LOVE YOU IF HE FINDS OUT YOU’RE A VAMPIRE? WHEN YOU BUY HIM TEN OF HIS FAVORITE KIND OF PEN DOES HE LOVE THE REAL YOU OR THE MASK YOU FIRST MADE TO TALK TO HIM ALL THOSE MANY MONTHS AGO??

but wait. ANOTHER PLOT TWIST. actually have i said plot twist yet. wait no. okay. plot twist. yuuri knew the entire goddamn time. Viktor ‘I’m Pale And Have No Reflection And Keep Walking Into Traffic Around You And Wheeze Next To Your Lunch And Am Clearly Dead’ Nikiforov. What a genius. Yuuri’s read like ten books about him. The 1800s especially were a good time for him. The hunters in those days liked to write epistolary novels solely about his butt. Teen Yuuri enjoyed them, the nerd.

Then he met the real thing.

The real thing has some serious issues. Yuuri wants to give him a hug, and one day he does but Viktor gets a boner from getting burned by all of Yuuri’s silver jewelry. Yuuri has to take a day off work to examine how he feels about that. Viktor’s just thrilled he was able to get a boner, being a walking corpse and all. It’ll happen if he’s, like, had a _lot_ of blood intake recently, but he’s also been super depressed for maybe the last 700 years so. They’ve been few and far between. He says hello to it. Somewhere in Austria Georgi knows and dies laughing. No he doesn’t. He’s already dead. He un-dies laughing. His current girlfriend doesn’t get it but she was already going to dump him anyway.

Viktor says hello so vigorously to his boner that he jizzes up a storm. And _that’s_ the one that’s interesting. Vampires aren’t supposed to be able to jizz. What part of a dead body produces semen, exactly? He rushes off to tell Yuuri. Yuuri is not at the cover bubble tea place. Mari is. Mari’s crossbow is too. Viktor leaves without ordering anything - a first. Eventually he finds Yuuri at Yuuri’s apartment. He’s sitting at his kitchen table, staring into his hands like a man condemned to die. Viktor knows this because he climbs up onto Yuuri’s balcony and stares in the window like the creep we’ve already established that he is. I just ctrl+f’d the word creep and okay, again I thought I used a word but then I didn’t. Still. All vampires are creeps. It’s okay, Viktor, the first step is acceptance.

Viktor presses his hand against the glass - still covered in jizz, mind - and shouts to get Yuuri’s attention. Oh he gets Yuuri’s attention. This is the second time in his life Yuuri’s looked up from his kitchen table to see a grown man standing on his balcony with his dick out. Both times were unpleasant. Yuuri hits his knees on the edge of the table in shock.

He does not let Viktor in because he needs some kind of sanctuary, come on, he’s the son of a long line of vampire hunters, give him some credit.

They talk through the window. The window has jizz smears on it. Yuuri ignores those manfully.

Viktor tells Yuuri he’s rediscovered love by knowing him. Also jizz, which is probably a good proxy for life. Does Yuuri know anything about vampires coming back to life if they fall in love? Yuuri does not because vampires don’t love. Love is a human emotion and vampires are dead. Viktor suggests Yuuri meet his old friend Georgi sometime. Somewhere in Austria Georgi gets dumped at that very second and begins work on creating a new ocean out of his tears. I’m sorry, Georgi, I only hurt you because I like you.

Yuuri goes back into his personal library and brings out some old journals and whatnot. He also brings out his laptop, which is much more useful. He searches through the database he’s compiled and lo and behold! There is a record of a vampire falling in love and then dying again. Could mean coming back to life. Could mean becoming a real corpse and not a weirdo animated one that wears unflattering nail polish. Could mean just the jizzing, little death and all.

Viktor asks Yuuri to learn which is which with him.

Yuuri gives him a ring. The ring is gold and symbolic. He also shows him a silver ring and says Viktor can have it once they get married. If they get married. Yuuri’s not about to marry a corpse. He’s pretty sure that’s illegal in Japan.

They adopt a dog.

Slowly, little by little, Viktor begins to regain what he lost.

And then one spring day he looks at Yuuri’s face while Yuuri translates a particularly difficult bit of Romanian, and Viktor’s heart skips skipping a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [OH MY GOD ARE YOU HAPPY WHAT HAVE I DONE]


	7. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lazulisong said: L M A O (in the context of the fucking vampire AU)

viktor rolls up to the bubble tea place for the first time and immediately rolls away again when yuuko pops an eyebrow at him through the window. he is not at a pink cadillac place of healing yet. maybe his car has zebra stripes. how would i know i wasn’t there. yuuko sets down the rag she was using to wipe down the counters with holy water - the liquid not her daughter - and picks up her phone.

the next time viktor has the courage to roll up to the bubble tea place is thirty minutes later and the reason it takes that long is less courage and more that he’s new to hasetsu and doesn’t know how the streets work. turns out one way streets mean people get upset when you drive down them the other way. and pedestrian zones!! viktor needs to go back and visit that pedestrian zone without his car. if enough people/reanimated dead bodies go driving through it maybe he can finally die that way. it’s a cheerful thought. he goes back to the bubble tea place to celebrate.

there are significantly more vampire hunters leaning against the walls menacingly than there were before. it is a 100% difference. viktor hopes they haven’t sussed him out because he is an idiot and thinks that is at all a possibility. vampires are not known for their intelligence. somewhere in austria georgi finishes composing the world’s greatest melody. he sneezes. he knows somewhere viktor is perpetuating the stereotype that vampires are cold and dead stupid idiots who drive the wrong way down the street in a car that clashes with their shoes. next to him his girlfriend decides to break up with him.

back in hasetsu viktor is out of his car. maybe he parked it. maybe it’s slowly rolling away towards the nearest intersection. i! was! not! there!! he wants to taste some bubble tea, like a fine wine. he wants to get shot through the heart because life is a maddening illusion caked in despair. 

inside the bubble tea shop yuuri opens the employee door from the back, nose in a book. maybe he’s super dreamy because this is now viktor’s pov. maybe he also has pizza grease down the front of his shirt and also select locations on his pants where he wiped his hands. maybe he came out from the library for a quick snack. he looks up. he locks eyes with the pale corpse man standing on the sidewalk. the pale corpse man bends down to tie his shoe.

mari raises her rifle. why does she have a rifle? who stands around in a bubble tea shop with a rifle? you know she’s been sitting in the corner with it for more than the last half hour she doesn’t respond to texts that fast, not even from yuuko.

‘wait.’ yuuri holds an arm out. the rest of the shop puts a pause on their menacing. ‘i know that butt,’ he says. ‘don’t kill him yet.’


	8. 5 times viktor steals a baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Viktor Nikiforov brings a baby home and the one time the cops don’t show up four hours later
> 
> _OR_
> 
> 5 times Viktor Nikiforov steals a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [macaron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fireblazie/pseuds/fireblazie).

“She was lost in the store!” Viktor pulls back sharply from Yuuri’s outstretched arm. It’s the first time he’s done something like that. Yuuri would feel hurt except he’s too busy feeling dread at the sight of the fleecy lime green bundle cradled so delicately in Viktor’s arms.

“How in the world could she have been _lost_ ,” Yuuri asks. Demands. “…How do you know she’s a she?”

“She was next to the magazines and everyone knows babies can’t read,” Viktor says quietly. Unlike some people he is mindful of a baby’s need to rest. “Her mother called her Evgenia.” Yuuri waits. “…I’ll bring her back.”

//

“This time I asked permission first,” Viktor says.

He didn’t.

//

“He was at the swings all by himself for three whole hours,” Viktor says. This time he’s got the swaying toddler behind him as if to protect him from the world with his tall, reedy body. Or he’s trying to hide the evidence from the person who can and will make him give the baby back, Viktor. Give. The. Baby. _Back._

Yuuri kneels down to the boy’s level. He’s got dark hair and light blue eyes and chubby chipmunk cheeks. He’s got a death grip on the side of Viktor’s Armani pants. “Did you have fun at the park,” Yuuri asks him lowly.

The boy nods.

Viktor says, “We did! We went down the slide exactly forty-three times, it was so-!”

“We’re going to go back there once I get my coat on,” Yuuri cuts Viktor off. He says it with finality. “And we’re going to find your parents.”

//

Yuuri notices a theme after Elena, whose mother looks very tired and almost sad to be receiving her daughter back once Yuuri finally gets Viktor to bring them to the correct section of the correct branch of the library. Elena’s mother’s coat is too thin, and her eyes are too red, and she bolts awake when Viktor places the baby back into her harms. Elena starts to cry when Viktor steps away from her, exactly what Yuuri didn’t want to have happen. Her hair is platinum, almost white. Her eyes are a dark dull brown. She looks like a miniature copy of her mother; or, of two other people. Yuuri notices the pattern but doesn’t say anything about it. He waves at the officers the librarian is gesturing to as he and Viktor leave.

//

Mari’s baby is the last straw.

//

Viktor doesn’t sleep for 37 hours straight after they bring Yulia Minako home for the first time. Neither does Yulia Minako, but that’s because she’d much prefer t o sleep in her crib, thank you. If only her ridiculous father would stop stealing her from her very comfortable spot to pace around the kitchen, singing softly, tonelessly, to stare into her unfocused eyes.


	9. yuuri + anxiety eating, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: god damn do I love your Yuuri's terrible food decisions. here's to more of those

The Wayne State Dunkin’ Donuts has official hours from 7:30 - 3:00, Mondays through Thursdays. It’s very obviously posted on the door. No one’s supposed to be there at 5PM on Fridays. They get their stock done on Thursday nights or they don’t go home, is what Vanessa The Manager says. No one likes Vanessa. Vanessa doesn’t like them back.

There is always someone there at 5PM on Fridays, ever since Kai found out it was worth it and told everyone on the group chat. If Kai were smart he would have kept it to himself, but Kai isn’t very smart so there are always about six of them loitering behind the counter on Friday evenings, give or take. They don’t have to wait long.

Sweaty Athlete rarely misses a Friday.

Why Sweaty Athlete chooses to end his workouts at a DD is anyone’s guess. Kai thought he had a crush on him for the longest time, but Kai’s an idiot. Maybe he likes the coffee. Or the donuts. Everyone wishes he had a crush on them. Unlike Kai they all know it isn’t true.

Maybe he chooses the campus DD because they will make him tuna salad sandwiches with strawberry frosted sprinkles donuts instead of bagels, and they won’t judge him at all, and they’ll make his drink for him and deliver it to his table, and if he ever asked they would blow on it to cool it and pour it into his mouth. He never asks for that. It’s the world’s biggest shame.

They draw straws every week to decide who gets to serve him his cup of half-Dunkaccino, half-ROCKST☆R on Friday. Handing him a cup is the most natural way to brush their hands against his fingers. He always pays in cash and sets the bills down on the counter. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose.

‘You’re a rockstar,’ Kai whispers to himself every week as Sweaty Athlete leaves. For once he’s got it right.


	10. tsn AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kixboxer asked: I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE WITH THAT TSN REBLOG
> 
> fireblazie said: _WHO, ME_

Viktor strides up and grabs Yuuri’s laptop right out from under his moving fingers. He clutches the hard plastic to his chest. The structure helps prop him up; otherwise his torso would be a U of sadness pointing down at the floor.

“.03%?” he whispers.

It’s a miracle Yuuri can hear him over the music in his headphones, or the buzz in the back of his throat, but he does.

“We should end this,” Yuuri says.

And Viktor finds himself curled up on the ground anyway, and Yuuri rushes to see if he’s all right, I just wanted to shield you from the liability, this company’s a mess, my ideas are all failures, our users will never stay, I’m sorry.

The picture someone takes of the two of them holding each other and crying on the carpet gets over a million smiles. They rewrite the contract. Viktor stays.


	11. yurio's awful terrible tweenage crush on viktor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kevystel asked: since you asked for prompts i have been STARVING for this content: yurio's terrible crush on viktor after getting viktor's full & overwhelming attention for 3 minutes that one time

He was what, twelve, when it happened? Yuri was twelve. Maybe thirteen. He had that awful bowl cut, sure, but that’s not a very good marker of time when it comes down to it. Mother preferred that awful bowl cut. He spent a lot of time with the bowl cut.

So it was bowl cut era.

Yes bowl cut, no quads yet.

Mother still dictated too many of his choices in those days, but her say got weaker and weaker every year. Yuri started winning and Yuri didn’t stop. The money Yuri brought home started to build and build, until it was more than Mother had ever seen before. The more money Yuri brought home the less anyone got to tell him what to do.

Yakov got to tell Yuri what to do, but that was only because Yakov taught Yuri how to win. No one else. Yuri’s grandpa. But aside from _that_ , really, no one else.

Viktor.

Yuri wins so much he is noticed by Viktor Nikiforov’s coach. Is picked up by him as a future star. And, more importantly than that, Yuri is noticed by Viktor himself.

“Watch your free leg,” Viktor mentions to him in passing one day at the end of Viktor’s practice, but near the beginning of Yuri’s. Yuri will be ashamed of it later, will deny it with his dying breath, but when he looks into Viktor’s assessing blue eyes that day he sees everything he wants to be.

Everything he _wants_.


	12. 5 times minami beat yurio in life and skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Top 5 moments Minami won against Yuri Plisetsky in life and skating
> 
> I may have gotten ahead of myself, just a bit. Uh. I’m sorry, anon.

1\. That time twitter user and JSF certified skater minami_k is elected president of the official Katsuki Yuuri Fan Club. Yuri seethes for days. Everyone at the rink in Saint Petersburg suffers as a result.  
  
2\. That time minaminaminami wins a set of crumpled pictures of early teenage Katsuki Yuuri that some very ungrateful and tasteless person tried to throw away. Yuri flips his laptop so hard it flies out the window, lands in a puddle, and the screen gets frozen on an ebay.jp ended auction page for two weeks. Teenage Katsuki Yuuri looked really cute in his school uniform. Probably still would. Yuri hates everything.  
  
3\. That time Minami is waiting by the ice for his Japanese Nationals SP and gets an ass slap from his idol and obvious crush Katsuki Yuuri, who has just finished his own SP and is descending into an anxiety coma if someone doesn’t talk him down soon. Both Yuri and Viktor are at Russian Nationals because the events overlap. Minami starts gushing at him, which doesn’t help at all, but then Yuuri enters hug zombie mode and he gets a lasting embrace until Yuuri moves on to his next victim and Kenjiro will never wash this costume ever again. Yuri never gets an ass slap from Katsuki Yuuri outside of niche rpf.  
  
4\. The year might be 2020. It is very possibly the first GPF after Katsuki Yuuri finally retires. I don’t know. I don’t have 2020 vision. Yuri has managed to keep his grabby hands on his professional skating career despite becoming a foot taller over the course of the previous season, but he’s still not 100% back to where he was before puberty happened. He goes fourth in the free skates and his score is high enough that it beats everyone else by ten points. Not his best margin, but he’ll take what he can get. The second to last person goes. Not enough to displace Yuri. The last person goes and that last person is some punkass bitch with dyed hair and a 1000 watt grin named Minami Kenjiro, and he only comes up to Yuri’s chin even after puberty, and he blazes past Yuri’s score with 5 points to spare. He dedicates his season to Katsuki Yuuri in the press conference after. Punk. Ass. _Bitch_.

  
5\. As previously mentioned, Yuri has many and varied fantasies about him + Katsuki Yuuri + the Olympic Village. And while his first Olympics are spent sitting awkwardly with Lilia while she monitors him constantly to make sure he does not fuck up his chances of winning by indulging in weaknesses - long slow stare pointed in Vitya’s direction (Vitya continues trying to get Yuuri to sit on his lap in the hot tub, he is Not Bothered) - his second Olympics actually do give him a Complete Olympic Village Experience. He even has it with a Japanese figure skater.

That Japanese figure skater is Minami Kenjiro.

Neither of them can really remember how it happened afterwards - something to do with gold and silver needing to go home with each other?? - but they are young and athletic and they have something VERY IMPORTANT TO THEM in common.

They both scream the same name when they come.

Neither is talking Plisetsky. In fact, they spend all night shouting the same name, and breathing it, and groaning it, and whimpering it when their voices begin to falter. This is moderately-to-extremely traumatizing for the owner of the name, because Yuri was given a room between Georgi and Viktor so Yuuri is just one thin, poorly-made Olympic Village wall over. Why does Viktor get a room with the Team Russia block? I don’t know. Maybe he’s coaching Yuri at this point, or maybe it’s a force of personality thing. Living Legend Winner Winnerson does what he wants.

But Team Russia was like um no to having a 30+yo set of ice dancers and Yuuri refused to change his citizenship anyway, so they are actually competing for Japan. The JSF will let Yuuri do anything because he is their sports son and they love him and are _soproud_ of him just like the rest of the country. Also Viktor probably got dual citizenship when he got added to the Katsuki family register anyway. ALSO I am definitely going to have a part in the sequel to the Mari-gets-divorced fic where Viktor corrects someone who calls him Viktor Nikiforov because he is, at that point, Viktor Katsuki. Nikiforov is his stage name. He will wink after that. I promise you this.

I have gotten off track.

So! Yuri and Kenjiro fuck athletically in the Olympic Village and they are sort of just doing it because hormones, but also because the other one is one of their strongest reminders of the person They Want But Cannot Have (the absolute strongest reminder being Viktor, the shithead who took Yuuri away from the world). Viktor, who is also next door because it is his room, is inspired to out-sex-shout them. Hearing two 20somethings fucking while thinking about him Does Not Do It for Yuuri so they end up fleeing somewhere else. Maybe they get a hotel room and gaze at each other in front of the fireplace and kiss each other’s palms all night idk idk they’re disgusting.

MEANWHILE back in the OV poor Georgi is still on the other side of the other wall, alone, listening to Yuri and Kenjiro enjoy(?) themselves. At some point one of them, maybe Kenjiro, knocks on his door to ask him for his free Olympic condoms since he clearly isn’t using them. He hands them over. He isn’t using them. He is alone. He also leaves after that to go weep in front of a fireplace in some hotel lobby somewhere. Yuri and Kenjiro use all of the free condoms they can find.

And this relates to the actual prompt because Kenjiro BLOWS YURI’S MIND. He ROCKS YURI’S WORLD.

He leaves the country in the morning and then he doesn’t call.

(instead he texts six pictures of yuuri ice dancing with viktor cropped out of the frame to yuri and this whole story is both how (a) the reverse cowgirl position is forever ruined for yuri for anyone else and (b) the grand friendship between yuri plisetsky and minami kenjiro is born.)


	13. viktor is gay and european

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lazulisong asked: Tell me about a time victor nikiforov looked at yuuri katsuki and thought, shit ok I'm real gay

There are so many to choose from! But I think I will go with that time in early September when they’re playing around at the ice castle, working on an exhibition skate for Yuuri.

“It’s not like I’m going to need it,” Yuuri tells himself while fiddling with his skate guards. He’s careful not to let Viktor hear. Viktor adds an extra kilometer to Yuuri’s morning run every time he says something negative like that. Yuuri’s legs are already paying the price for mumbling “No one’s gonna see this exhibition, let’s work on quads instead” at breakfast. Besides, Yuuri doesn’t mean it. This is his year. He’s not going to let Viktor down! Or Minako-sensei, or Yuuko and Takeshi, or the JSF.

Or himself.

He stands in a quick motion and joins Viktor out on the ice. Viktor’s been brainstorming choreography all morning, all week, and Yuuri tracks along next to him to see how it feels on his body. It’s easy being like this with Viktor, which still surprises Yuuri. He wishes it could always be like this. But that’s a wish, not a given, and Yuuri knows he has to make the most of the time he has.

Impulsively, he reaches over and grabs Viktor around the middle as they cross paths. Viktor tilts his head at Yuuri, but follows into the motion like he’d been meaning to all along. _Trust me_ , Yuuri mouths.

Viktor brings his near hand up to rest on Yuuri’s shoulder and it’s the simplest thing for Yuuri to lower his arms and tilt Viktor back in a seamless dip. Viktor’s weight rests carefully in Yuuri’s arms. Viktor’s eyes track the up and down bobbing of Yuuri’s throat when Yuuri swallows back something he doesn’t know how to say yet.

He wishes this would never end.

-

(He watches Yuuri wander away towards the locker rooms after they wordlessly decide the day’s been long enough. Just before Yuuri disappears around a corner, he lifts the edge of his shirt up, up, and over, and Viktor is left with the sight of Yuuri’s naked back. Soft around the edges still, strong, capable, more broad than Viktor can afford to think about right now. He watches a single bead of sweat pearl up and let fall, tracing a low curve between Yuuri’s shoulder blades. The path it takes is tortuous and ends right at the edge of Yuuri’s sweatpants.

Viktor breathes in. Short. Sharp. Cold.

Ah yes, he thinks. Yes. _Fuck._ )

[On anyone else Viktor would take that as an invitation. From Yuuri it’s something else. It’s walking along behind him, picking up his carelessly thrown shirt, placing it in a hamper. It’s walking home together and discussing whether to practice lifts at Minako’s tomorrow or not. Viktor wishes.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have FEELINGS about them practicing for the duetto.


	14. 5 times yurio talked yuuri up to someone else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> runespoor7 asked: top 5 times Yuri talked Yuuri up to someone else

**1)** Anonymously all over the internet.  
  
 **2)** “I want a lohengrin costume!” he grouches to himself all the way to the rink. Once there he hands a couple carefully-clipped magazine pages to Yakov. “These are fine,” Yuri says. Yakov does not recognize them, which Yuri finds insulting. Maybe that’s why he begins to praise that skater’s fluid movements. His stamina. His musicality. Yakov starts tuning out around the time Yuri starts praising the other skater’s nose. Yakov gets enough of this shit from Georgi. He doesn’t need another Georgi. (He can’t even think about another Viktor at this point. Poor guy.)  
  
 **3)** “No,” Yuri tells the columnist from Vogue magazine. He’s wearing a suit jacket with no shirt underneath it, and his hair has been thrown over one side and braided through with wildflowers. It’s a bit light for his tastes, but doing press is rarely about his tastes. This is about his image, Lilia told him before the shoot. At least for this next season, Viktor amended, taking a thousand and one pictures of Yuri with his phone while cooing nonsense. _Do what you won’t regret later_ , Otabek wrote from Almaty.

Well, Yuri’s a two-time GPF gold medalist, fresh off his second victory, and he’s not going to regret this ever.

“No,” he repeats, “Viktor has been a motivating force in my life, but he’s not the skater I look up to the most.”

“Oh?” The columnist asks. “And who would that be, then?”

“The most important skater to me is Yuuri Katsuki.” The columnist flips to an empty page in her notebook. Yuri stops her with a hand before she can interrupt him with a follow-up question. “He is the most talented, beautiful skater on the international scene today,” he says. “And have you seen his _thighs_?”  
  
 **4)** Yuri is 10 and Viktor Nikiforov has just won everything there is to win. (he’s going to do it 4 more times, but he doesn’t know that yet. right now it’s still fresh, and fun, and he can’t get enough of it.) Viktor Nikiforov is 22 and somehow he gets stuck alone at the training rink with a little kid whose mother has forgotten to pick him up at the end of the day. He doesn’t know the kid very well, but that’s never stopped him from having a conversation before.

The kid refuses to talk to him.

Viktor doesn’t have to wait, but he waits, and together they sit in the lobby as the sky outside grows dark, and Viktor chats about his day, and skating, and his dog, and the food he’s eaten and the places he’s been, and the kid refuses to talk to him.

And then Viktor says something about the NHK trophy and it’s like a switch is flipped.

Fifty minutes later the kid’s grandfather arrives in a beat up old Riva. The kid, little Yura, is still nattering away about his hero, also named Yuuri, and Viktor knows it would be normal to be exasperated. He is 22 and he’s won everything there is to win, and he doesn’t know this kid very well. But instead he is helplessly charmed at the kid’s spirit. He takes the pair out to dinner and he makes a note in his mind to see how little Yura is on the ice. If there’s any help Viktor can give him.

(He remembers little Yura the next time he sees him, but he forgets the reason why.)  
  
 **5)** “He’s the best skater in the junior division,” Yuri says, dragging his hand across the glossy magazine spread. It’s after dinner and he’s sleepy, but it’s a bit too early to go to bed. He asked his grandfather to read to him, but instead they’re looking at pictures in Yuri’s skating magazines no one but his grandpa will buy for him. Yuri’s grandpa’s lap is warm. “I want to be just like him.”


	15. 5 times yakov defended viktor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> runespoor7 asked: your take on the top 5 times Yakov went to bat for Viktor?

1) Years 13 - 22 in the life of Viktor Nikiforov, Figure Skater, felt like one long time At Bat for Yakov. Like, he never stopped. He was constantly sticking up for his FRUSTRATING and INFURIATING and GENIUS and STUPID son. Not his son. Skater. Nikiforov. What a pain. I can also definitely see him chiding Viktor with one breath and then turning around and bellowing how HE WILL DRAG YOU TO THE GATES OF HELL HIMSELF IF YOU SAY **ONE MORE FUCKING THING** ABOUT VIKTOR NIKIFOROV’S FUCKING (HAIR/COSTUMES/PERSONAL LIFE/FLUFFY DOG/PERFUME ADS/CASUAL NUDITY/SEX TAPE/SOCKPUPPET ACCOUNTS GUSHING OVER HIS HIS EARLY YEARS CRUSH STÉPHANE LAMBIEL).

2) He stops needing to do it quite as much after Viktor chops off his hair and buckles down and starts his Winning Streak Of Doom. But then he does stonewall any and all attempts to get Viktor to procreate for sports glory. I imagine there are a lot of “hotel booking accidents” where Viktor and some really good lady athlete mysteriously get assigned the same room? It’s the honeymoon suite? Oh the oysters and champagne are complimentary? No we swear we won’t tell your nutritionists (if you have sex. If you just eat _**again** we are fucking on to you_ you will be conditioning until you die).

3) He stands in front of the Figure Skating Federation of Russia in his best suit and promises, solemnly, that Viktor will come back shortly. Removing his certification would be a mistake. He knows what he’s doing.

4) DON’T, he shouts into his phone, even though it’s been a week since the Cup of China and they all should get over themselves. He throws it against the wall. The screen breaks. He already has another replacement waiting. He has a third of a stack of them waiting. Vitya is going to be the death of him. He hopes this Katsuki is _really fucking worth it_.

5) “He didn’t mean it,” he says, staring pointedly at Viktor running through a set of spins, and not at Yuuri standing next to him. Yuuri is also staring at Viktor, Yakov knows this without checking. They’re always looking at each other. Why is he even doing this. How did his life come to this. “You know how he says things he doesn’t mean.”

“He meant it,” Yuuri says impassively, which is a bad sign. “And if _he_ wants to apologize _he_ can do so.”

Yakov winces internally and mentally reformulates his strategy. _Vitya is going to be the death of him_.


	16. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fireblazie asked: for the fic prompt (and you really, really shouldn't be surprised): "I’m a vampire and I have a moment of weakness, you’re nearby and lets just say it doesn’t end well"
> 
> I AM NOT SuRPRISED AT ALL, YOU

The walking corpse occasionally known as Viktor Nikiforov knows exactly what he is about when he walks into BOBATOPIA TEA one cold spring morning. He has released his car from its service to him. He has checked out of his hotel room. He’s wearing a light jacket and his favorite shoes. He is ready to die.

“I am a vampire, please kill me,” he doesn’t say.

“I found you on TripAdvisor, did you know you guys are on there? Your defenses get very high reviews,” he doesn’t say.

“I am,” he says, and then he stops. A man in a long-sleeved black shirt and blue glasses is standing in front of him with a book under one arm. The book is very old. The man is very cute. Viktor’s resolve wavers. “…very hungry,” Viktor continues, stumbling all over his words like a child of 200. He can’t remember the last time he felt like this.

Roughly 30 safeties disengage.

Oh.

Right.

“For bubble tea!” Viktor hurries to clarify. He holds up his hands in a gesture he hopes means ‘I am not a creature of the night, just Russian’ in Japan. “I am a human tourist man who is very hungry for bubble tea, which,” he points up at the cheery sign behind the gleaming counter, “you have!”

The woman behind the counter glances over towards the man in the black shirt. They say something wordlessly. But Viktor’s been around a long time, longer than anyone else in the room, certainly, longer than anyone in any room. He’s fluent in wordless conversation. He’s a little hurt the woman called him an idiot. He’s flattered the man in the black shirt thinks he’s an idiot with a cute butt.

The tapioca tastes wonderful.

It tastes less wonderful on the way back up again, when Viktor has to get rid of it in the alleyway behind his hotel while he waits for the opportunity to check in again. He has decided to put off dying, if only for a little bit.

—

The man in the black shirt’s name is Yuuri. He spends most of his time in the back room of BOBATOPIA and his fingers are always smeared with ink. Viktor has long since stopped bothering to curb his whims, so he allows himself to be diverted by Yuuri’s small smiles. When he finally uncovers the biggest one, he tells himself, he’ll get back to his original reason for coming to Japan.

So he becomes Viktor Feltsman, lover of bubble tea and perhaps one Katsuki Yuuri.

Katsuki Yuuri sees right through him. Viktor, surprisingly, finds that he likes it.

And then all his reasons begin to intermingle, because Katsuki Yuuri is the little brother of Katsuki Mari, and if Viktor’s sure of one thing it’s that Katsuki Mari wants to kill him.

Maybe this is fate’s way of giving him one last chance.

And then all his reasons fall apart, because he wants Katsuki Yuuri to look at him and see him for who he is. Viktor doesn’t know who he is anymore. He gives Yuuri his favorite pens. He fills up two BOBATOPIA punch cards. He doesn’t want Mari to kill him. He wants Yuuri to trust him enough to let him into the library. He wants to grow old here.

(He can’t have that because he’s dead.)

—

They’re living in a tentative truce when it happens. Well. Yuuri is living in a tentative truce. Viktor exists in it, dead, calls it ‘dating’, sends flowery letters to Georgi about it in a twist of cruel fate. But he’s hopeful! He’s so hopeful something will happen, something good, that he doesn’t even care if that something good is new life or two words from Yuuri (“Come in.”). Viktor has an apartment in Yuuri’s building, which Mari says is to keep a closer eye on him, and Yuuri says is to get to be closer to Makkachin. Viktor has a job! He gets to sweep up at BOBATOPIA and also consult on the history of his kind. He has a very good memory. He’s very good at historical consultation.

(Yuuri still won’t let Viktor into the library proper. Viktor is disappointed until he realizes this means they go on a lot of dates so Yuuri can listen, rapt, to Viktor discussing silver smelting practices in the 1700s.)

Viktor’s death has turned around.

But even good vampires have bad days.

And Viktor has never been particularly good at being a vampire.

—

“Can I just,” Viktor says one day while they’re sitting on a concrete bench, staring at the sea. He’s wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a pale green scarf. Yuuri’s wearing a scoop-necked shirt and a thin silver necklace with an amulet on the end full of holy water. He dresses like that on purpose, just to tempt Viktor, and it’s fine. If Viktor can’t control himself the consequences would be impossible. Their stakes are high. Stakes.

It’s fine.

Viktor hasn’t been to the blood bank in two weeks. He can feel his canines elongating all on their own.

“Can I just,” he hears himself say, breathless because he can’t breathe, because he can’t think about anything but the thump _thump_ pulse running through the veins on Yuuri’s neck. “Put my hand there?”

Yuuri stares him down. His neck is crowned in silver, in the holy water he showers in, in too much skin, under the surface in blood. He shifts away from Viktor, on the bench. He doesn’t get up, but he shifts away.

Viktor pulls his hand back. He doesn’t remember reaching out. He remembers pulling back.

He stays two steps behind when they jog home.

—

It’s two weeks later and Viktor has made sure to never be hungry around Yuuri again. He brings Makkachin on their walks and buries his face in Makkachin’s fur if he needs to. He does not look at Yuuri’s neck, or his wrists, or his ankles. Yuuri never wears socks that reach above his ankles. Viktor misses looking at his ankles.

He’s just making dinner for Makkachin when he hears knocking at the door to their apartment. This isn’t usual – Viktor doesn’t get many visitors. Mostly his only visitors are Yuuri and Mari. Yuuri for their dates, Mari to check in on him and make sure he hasn’t murdered anyone recently.

It’s Yuuri. That isn’t strange.

Yuuri’s not wearing any of his silver. That is strange.

Viktor doesn’t invite Yuuri in. He doesn’t know what will happen if he does.

“Can I?” Yuuri asks. He’s trying to meet Viktor’s eyes, but Viktor won’t let him. He’s still embarrassed. He blocks the door; first with his body, then with Makkachin who comes to investigate.

“Just give me a moment to wipe my hands!” Viktor singsongs, as bright as ten thousand lightbulbs shining down on an empty stage. “Do you want to bring your dinner over here again? I can tell you more about the time Georgi and I helped found the city of Paris.”

“No, I,” Yuuri frowns, and Viktor charges past the words Yuuri is struggling to say. He doesn’t want to hear them because he knows what they are. He’s been around long enough. He’s heard them before.

“Here, let me-”

“Stop it.”

Viktor freezes.

Makkachin runs figure eights through their legs, free of thoughts or cares, happy to be with the both of them.

Yuuri reaches out and Viktor braces for some kind of impact.

Yuuri’s warm hand closes around Viktor’s wrist, and pulls. He places Viktor’s palm against his neck. “You’re not cold,” he blinks, cheeks rosy with blood.

If Viktor could breathe he would have stopped at all of this. Makkachin thumps his tail in delight. It sounds like a heartbeat, speeds up. “Myth,” Viktor says with the slight bit of attention he has that isn’t focused on the feel of Yuuri’s pulse under his fingers. “We’re room temperature. Depends on the room.”

Yuuri nods. “I want you to be you, Viktor,” he says, “I. Love you because you’re you. Somehow. And I don’t trust me to stop you without help.” He waves his free hand at his neck. Viktor hasn’t been able to get past the part where Yuuri just said he loves him. He knows time stopped for him when he died, but damn it all if it doesn’t feel like it’s stopped again. “Viktor?”

“Hurgh?” Viktor asks.

Makkachin barks helpfully.

“Let’s go dancing tonight,” Yuuri says.

—

Later, close but safely far, Yuuri mumbles, “I want you to bite me, but I can’t let you bite me.”

Viktor didn’t know heart attacks were possible for the dead.


	17. yurio's awful teenage crush on yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dadvans asked: Top five favorite pictures of Yuuri Katsuki that Yuri angrily beats off to
> 
> I SENSE A THEME

#5 - the stalker shot of him sleeping on someone’s shoulder on the train. his face is angelic. his glasses have slipped halfway down his nose. his mouth is open, just a bit, and you can see his tongue resting on his lips if you look hard enough. (yuri has looked hard enough). the shoulder belongs to viktor. viktor is cropped out.

#4 - the promo pictures he does for the remake of the jdrama Pride - about figure skating this time ofc instead of hockey. they made him take his glasses off and told him to stare lustfully at the camera so instead he took his glasses off and squinted nervously at the camera while thinking of katsudon. the photographer couldn’t tell the difference and neither could anyone else.

#3 - that one ad for juice he did where they made him actually drink it and it kind of accidentally looks like he’s fellating the bottle. this one is never a proper poster but yurio spends 5 hours finding a clip that’s not blocked in russia and then screencapping it to an acceptable resolution.

#2 - the oldie but goodie Train Station Poster from before he was really famous and was only moderately famous. as previously mentioned, yuri has a physical copy and kisses it every morning.

#1 - the double page Yuri On Ice spread viktor made him do in GQ. the only damn thing viktor nikiforov has done right in his miserable Not Yuuri’s Number One Fan life. yuuri’s looking straight into the camera and you can’t see where his hands are.


	18. 5 times yuuri took no prisoners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: top five times yuuri took no prisoners

1\. That 10 hour Settlers of Catan game back in junior year. Everyone thought ‘he’s so beautiful he’s here on a sports scholarship what a jock WE’RE GONNA FLEECE HIM’. Little did they know he was _nationally ranked_. Jk you didn’t ask for p &r AU headcanons I’m sorry. But canon Yuuri has def won money at high stakes SoC.

2\. That one time, at the JGPF, when he won goddamn gold and the nearest competitor was 20 points behind and crying because that program was so goddamn beautiful little Mickey Crispino couldn’t breathe. Yuuri’s exhibition is a thinly-veiled Viktor Nikiforov tribute that year. NO ONE COULD TELL RIGHT YUUKO?? I JUST LOVE HIS SKATING. SO MUCH.

3\. That one time Viktor convinces him to do a modeling gig for a high fashion mens line of sandals. He takes no prisoners because Viktor offers himself up willingly. I am on mobile and can’t remember if this is when Yuuri took no prisoners or all the prisoners WHOOPS.

4\. That one time he signs autographs after the Japanese Nationals and the first fifty people in line are fellow skaters who took commentator jobs or coached or came out of retirement just to be able to loiter in line backstage before everyone else.

5\. Every single goddamn time Viktor Nikiforov wakes up in the goddamn morning to see his devastating sleeping face. Why are you watching me sleep, Yuuri groans. It’s not even nine. Fuck, stop being so weird. I’m going back to sleep.

Yes my love, Viktor says to his husband, World Championship of Figure Skating Gold Medalist Katsuki Yuuri. My stars, my moon, the tide that pulls me. My very essence of being. He does not stop staring. Freak.


	19. 5 moments of rivalry between yurio and minami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Please we need the top 5 moments of Yuri and Minami's Intense Rivalry (as Yuuri dies in the background and Viktor continues to be a terrible fiancé)

1\. it begins online, long before they first meet in person:

numberonyuurifan: NO IM HIS #! FAN FUCK U

minami_k: 凸ಠ益ಠ)凸

2\. and then: yuri flips his keyboard at the monitor and accidentally unplugs it. he freezes, afraid his grandpa might have heard, might come to investigate why the computer is on at 5am and why yuri is awake, but no sound comes from his grandpa’s room. he stares back at the screen, furious. somebody outbid him 1 second before the end of the auction. yuri lost the auction. yuri LOST THE AUCTION. if he were viktor nikiforov he would channel this anger into a men’s figure skating program but he is young and doesn’t know that’s a thing yet. fucking ebay.jp user minaminaminami.

3\. yuri wants to go see japanese nationals but he can’t because russian nationals are at the same time. he watches the stream of the jp nationals with viktor when they have spare time under the guise of OBSERVING HIS COMPETITION and making sure YUURI IS TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY but in reality it’s all to watch yuuri move on the ice. he notices how close that little dye job punk is standing to yuuri rinkside on hour 3. his agape is a little more demonic than usual and he blames his loss to viktor on it. on that kid. fuck that kid.

4\. they meet in two years at skate canada. yuuri and viktor are retired but someone lets them go wherever they want because idk they are Them, so they’re backstage/rinkside/what do you even call that and embarrassing yuri like nothing else. but then yuuri starts shouting encouragement at the skater from japan yuri sort of almost recognizes - huh he got tall - and what, wait, what, that’s not acceptable, why is he cheering on yuri’s COMPETITION???? why isn’t viktor STOPPING HIM what the fuck is viktor even good for anymore. yuri is furious again. this time his fury propels him to a win because his FS was a medley of t swift breakup songs.

5\. kenjiro manages to snag numberoneyuurifan on an app after YEARS AND YEARS OF TRYING. A LITERAL DECADE. he celebrates on twitter. katsuki_y very loudly Does Not Comment. vnikiforov sends five tweets about how jealous he is and then a picture of his dog. the_yplisetsky sends FUCK YOU with a pic of him giving double birds until it is deleted, prob by yakov who is not paid enough for this.


	20. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: that vampire au was a work of art and i have never laughed so hard in my life. somehow it was both absurd and absolutely within the realm of plausibility, because viktor is extra and ridiculous and i cannot imagine death would do anything but aggravate those traits. bless you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ISN'T CHRONOLOGICAL, BTW

THAT’S GOOD FOR YOU, ANON.

you know how they adopt a dog? it happens on a thursday on yuuri’s self-imposed lunch break because it’s not like vampire hunter guilds have actual structured hours though it would be hilarious if they did. mari, dammit, the dress code says we wear ties. what are you doing. put down that flamethrower. anyway. yuuri leaves his library and picks up viktor from outside in the shop because viktor is still not allowed in yuuri’s spaces because yuuri is afraid of being hurt in his heart and also murdered to death by the demon monster reanimating viktor’s corpse body. viktor is a vampire which means he is dead! how does anyone fall in love with a dead body!!???

i don’t know and yuuri doesn’t either, but he’s gotta get a handle on his life so he pulls viktor away from a tapioca-eating competition with lutz - WHO HAS A VAMPIRE KILLING THEMED NAME NOW like there’s rosary and stake and holy water she is stake - which isn’t fair because he can’t digest things so he’s going to have to vomit all that tapioca up later, what a thousand year old child, and drags him down to the nearest pet store.

‘pick one,’ yuuri says, pointing at the store in a general way.

viktor picks a dog without asking any questions. this is fun! so exciting!! they’re def progressing their relationship!! maybe yuuri will invite viktor into his house soon!!! they are dating viktor is pretty sure but yuuri barely lets viktor touch him. you get jizz on a guy’s window the _one time_ and he resents you for the rest of _an age of man_. but yuuri buying them a dog is a sign.

yuuri makes viktor pay for the dog. okay. fine. viktor has a lot of money. viktor loves spending money on yuuri. it’s been a long time since viktor cared at all about money.

viktor asks what they’re going to name their new dog child.

‘whatever you want,’ yuuri says. ‘he’s yours.’

what.

‘if you can sleep next to that dog for a year and not kill it maybe i might think about letting you sleep next to _me_.’

viktor does sleep next to makkachin but only because he needs someone’s shoulder to cry on after a brush off like that. makkachin’s shoulder smells delicious. yuuri may have had a point. damn.


	21. tree vampire AU (I DON'T KNOW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kevystel asked: TREE VAMPIRE AU WHERE YUURI IS A PLANT (thanks macaron) this is also a mafia/espionage au where yuuri goes undercover (LIKE AN UNDERCOVER AGENT, BUT COULD ALSO BE: UNDER THE RAINFOREST COVER. I'M FUNNY OK) 'ok. like a fbi plant?' viktor asks, prying his fangs out of a nearby tree. 'no,' says yuuri. 'i am literally a plant.'

Nope sorry. I’ve completed my requirement for mafia AUs in this life. I have checked that box. I have not checked the ‘character is/turns into a plant AU’ box yet, but I don’t know. You have to have a certain something to pull one of those off.

What if Yuuri was a tree and also a tree conservationist at the same time? What if he has access to a laptop and a reeeaaaaaally long ethernet cable to the ranger station and the ability to type and think thoughts and compose them in readable Japanese and/or English?

What if tree vampire Viktor becomes infatuated with Treeyuuri’s insightful views on land use and soil acidification. TreeForum dot com user Imtree is so smart. So funny. The grainy picture of some unnamed forest that is his(?) userpic is so cute. Viktor wants to meet him. Viktor wants to suck a tree dry while staring at TreeForum dot com user Imtree’s profile picture and imagining what it would be like to do it in person. Does Imtree have glasses? Viktor bets he wears glasses. He’s so into it.

He finds the ranger station by way of Imtree’s IP address. Viktor might be really old and also dead, but never say he can’t pick up the tricks the kids are using these days.

As an aside, how do you even become a tree vampire? Was Viktor bitten by a tree? Was he crushed to undeath by a bunch of roots? These are the thoughts I think while waiting for my simulations to converge.

Viktor follows the reeeaaaaaally long cable out into the forest when the ranger shows no recognition at his proclamation that he is treesucker69. Also when the ranger isn’t cute. Viktor could have unlived with it if the uncute ranger really was Imtree, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to.

He’s holding out for glasses.

The ethernet cable takes him to a laptop at the base of a cute little Japanese Pistache. Its foliage is blushing bright red. Viktor could just about suck it until his teeth fall off. He looks up.

There’s an old pair of wire-framed glasses sitting in a crook between two branches.

No.

_Yes._


	22. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fireblazie asked: re: your tags on the vampire post, GOOD, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED :DD

and maybe it still works with katsudon in the AU because like OBVIOUSLY yuuri is not letting viktor suck his blood because GROSS and DISGUSTING and maybe viktor doesn’t even ask because he is afraid of REJECTION maybe he just says things like ah today we did a lot of things yuuri it really makes you work up an appetite and yuuri very purposefully takes a bite of garlic bread straight from the bag mari handed him that morning. he wipes a little of the garlic butter on his neck.

THIS DOES NOT SERVE TO DETER VIKTOR.

IN FACT IT DOES THE OPPOSITE.

viktor develops a pavlovian response to garlic butter. he feels ill when he’s near it, because dead corpseman sun allergy, but he also wants to fuck it. he wants to fuck the garlic butter. he wants to fuck yuuri with garlic butter involved. and instead he has to console himself with stroking yuuri’s hand, getting hives because the bathrooms in the bubble tea place have holy water piped into the faucets - viktor has to bring wet wipes with him everywhere he goes now so embarrassing but good practice for future fatherhood - and then running off to get blood from somewhere else. and it is not the same getting blood from somewhere else, i guess. viktor doesn’t want to fuck anyone else’s soup anymore.

also i cannot continue this line of thought because DRINKING BLOOD IS DISGUSTING and I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY ANYONE FOUND IT SEXY IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT. IS. **_DISGUSTING._**


	23. yuuri + anxiety eating, pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: concept: yuuri gets the beautiful international student treatment even more often when he's chubby because he is just so cute and looks so exquisitely sad.

“Damn,” Ana says. “Damn. I. _Damn_.”

Martin knows how she feels. Beautiful International Student has walked in and, right, that’s right, Ana’s new. Ana doesn’t know.

Beautiful International Student walks up to her register and asks for the same godawful goji berry-infused peanut butter mess of a banana smoothie Martin’s ever heard of he always asks for, and Ana almost asks him if he really wants all that in one cup. Martin can see it at the tip of her lips. She almost tells Beautiful International Student it’ll be $4.79.

Martin intervenes just in time.

“Wow you’re really lucky,” he says, pushing a star-struck Ana to the side and swiping his own card through the register. “Somebody just paid it forward for you. Won’t cost you anything! Again!” 

Beautiful International Student looks behind him at the otherwise empty store. His slight frown pushes his soft cheeks out _just_ so. Martin could make him feel _so_ good.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Ana stares blatantly at Beautiful International Student’s thighs. His track pants are about a size too small. Must be April. Martin knows it’s April. Beautiful International Student always puts on weight in April. God, Martin loves April.

“Ana will just get started on that Fruity Booty Blast with extra peanut butter for you, okay?” Martin says, projecting his phone number at the top of his internal monologue’s voice. Beautiful International Student does not appear to hear him.


	24. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> image: two squeezed limes, a greasy napkin, an otherwise empty plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY MACARON!!! HERE IS YOUR VAMPIRE BIRTHDAY TACOS REQUEST! THIS IS NOT YOUR BIRTHDAY FIC, BUT IT IS STILL A BIRTHDAY FIC FOR YOU!! YOU LITTLE PUNK!!!!

Today Viktor turns nine hundred and seventy-three years old. Probably. He’s not extremely confident with the date, but he has very distant, very vague memories of celebrating with his parents around a fire as the snow outside piled up past the windows. He’s not sure of the year, either, but. Today Viktor turns nine hundred and seventy-three. The big one triple oh is coming up soon. He hopes he’s not still around to see it.

The night air is dense and dry. It makes the back of his throat sticky. He swallows roughly around nothing and then reaches for the glass bottle next to his elbow. There’s nothing left in it, and he knew that, and he still holds it up and tilts it back just in case another drop winds its way down to his uncomfortably dry throat. It’s not good that Viktor’s thirsty. He’d like to keep it to a lack of fluids if he can. A need for water. He tries not to think about how thirsty he is.

He’s in a town in the middle of a desert.

There aren’t many people around – it’s late – and the people who are there probably don’t deserve to die. Viktor hates that part of his condition the most: to keep himself awake and moving, not alive, he has to make someone else suffer the same nine hundred and seventy-three – and counting – years he has already suffered. To pretend to live he has to kill.

Georgi would have something to say about this line of thought, but Viktor lost Georgi somewhere in Vladivostok last year. They’ll find each other again, he’s sure of that. Until that time Viktor is across the sea, sitting in a desert, wondering how to celebrate nine hundred and forty-five years too many.

The woman at the register shouts the name Viktor’s been using since he left the Soviet Union. Russia. As always, he only barely remembers it’s supposed to refer to him. She has to shout it a second time. Viktor realizes and stands and waves and takes his paper plate of tacos with a smile.

Viktor is dead. His stomach can’t digest food. He doesn’t know why he bought tacos for his birthday.

(He does. He wishes he were alive.)

(He wishes he were dead.)

There’s a bench outside and he takes his tacos there. Viktor sits alone on the bench and stares up at the stars as he pretends to eat. He should avoid the Soviet Union for a while. Russia. Whatever they’re calling themselves now. He should avoid it until they forget about him. Maybe he’ll stay somewhere warm. Viktor wouldn’t mind dying again somewhere warm. There are some decent vampire-hunting guilds in warm locations.

—

Years continue to pass and Viktor doesn’t stop being not alive.

It’s a real downer.

—

Yuuko, bless her and Viktor feels phantom hives just thinking about giving someone a blessing, is a saint. (Hives.) A gem. Yuuko is precious and wonderful. Yuuko told Viktor Yuuri’s name.

Yuuri.

Katsuki Yuuri.

The Katsuki part might be a problem, maybe, or a solution, also maybe. Katsuki is an old name among Japanese vampire hunters. Yuuri comes from a distinguished line of vampire hunters. Yuuri, probably, will want to kill Viktor as soon as he realizes Viktor is an undead corpse monster. Viktor is only half sure he still wants this. He was sixty percent sure yesterday. He expects to be forty percent sure tomorrow.

Yuuri is shifting Viktor’s iron resolve.

He likes it.

He buys a desk lamp for Yuuri and brings it to BOBATOPIA because Yuuri spends so much time inside reading. That can’t be good for his eyes. And all the smoke from the candles! Viktor can’t imagine any of that is good for Yuuri’s delicate living lungs. At the register Yuuko laughs at him from behind her hand while he explains that libraries are really very hazardous to one’s health. Yuuri might think about spending more time outside, perhaps with Viktor, who has proven his ability to be outside during the day. Not all vampires can do that. He doesn’t say that part. What he says is that he’s trying to look out for Yuuri. That’s all. Viktor’s spent a lot of time in libraries, so he should know.

He neglects to mention that time was last in the early 1800s.

She giggles at him again and shares a look with her husband who is sitting in a booth with one of their daughters. They’re polishing the silver. Should Viktor tell them it’s only plated? For best results they really shouldn’t use plated silver. Viktor will tell Takeshi about it later. After he gives Yuuri the lamp and asks him if he is free for dinner. Or marriage. Dinner. Dinner where he will eat food and Viktor will pretend to eat food.

Somewhere in Austria Georgi wipes away a tear.

Yuuko presses the buzzer underneath the counter that lets Yuuri know someone wants to see him. Viktor isn’t allowed in the library, but that’s something he’s working on.

“Next time,” she says, plopping a handful of watermelon cubes into a blender, “try pens. Yuuri likes making handwritten notes. And sometimes the others borrow them for improvised combat scenario training and it’s impossible to get the gore out.”

Viktor gapes. “Pens,” he breathes.

Yuuko stares at him and starts laughing again.

—

Today Viktor turns nine hundred and ninety-nine years old. Possibly. He’s a little wary of turning a thousand. This might not be the first time he has turned nine hundred and ninety-nine. It might not be the last, in fact, Viktor is planning for it not to be his last.

Next to him Makkachin rolls over in his sleep and kicks Viktor in the kidneys. Viktor should start taking those hypnosis dog obedience training videos more seriously.

“Grapefruit,” Viktor says. Makkachin barks and starts chasing dream rabbits. Grapefruit was supposed to be the word for Makkachin to nuzzle Viktor’s shoulder and love him forever. He really needs to take dog obedience training more seriously.

“Do you think Yuuri wants to go to the aquarium today,” he asks Makkachin and his ceiling. “I’d like to see baby penguins for my nine hundred and ninety-ninth birthday.”

Makkachin whimpers in his sleep.

“All right,” Viktor sighs and cradles Makkachin closer. “You can come too.”

—

Today Viktor turns one thousand.

“I don’t think tacos are supposed to be like that,” he ventures.

Yuuri dips a finger in the little tub of garlic butter Viktor could smell as soon as he opened the door to Yuuri’s apartment. Yuuri scoops up a glob of garlic butter and paints it directly down the center of the rice flour tortilla. Viktor’s still not used to living things – breathing, saliva generation, having a heartbeat – and it has not been more apparent to him than it is in this moment.

“Pass me the tuna,” Yuuri says. He sits up and leans over the table anyway, which puts his body more or less in Viktor’s lap. He doesn’t move back to his own seat to finish assembling his monstrosity.

Today Viktor turns one thousand and he’s so happy to be around to see it he could cry.


	25. horrorterror makkachin faust AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: so "makkachin as horrorterror" is clearly asking for a Faust AU with makkachin as Mephistopheles, Viktor as Faust -- dissatisfied with his life so makes pact with THE HORRORTERROR, Yuuri as Gretchen. Goethe's version probably, because at least that has an optimistic ending? And like should probably include a heavy dose of meta intertextuality with at least one skating routine version of Dr. Faustus?

Viktor spends half an hour on the Tuchkov Bridge with stones in his pockets. Not really.

They’re medals.

He stands next to the railing in a heavy winter coat, pockets weighed down with ribbons and gold, and then he makes his way slowly back to his apartment. It’s a cold, bright morning. Viktor has no idea what he’s doing or why he thought the bridge would help. He should be happy. He’s _supposed_ to be happy.

He doesn’t notice the stray until his doorman points it out. 

“Stop, you,” the doorman chides, and it’s in such a strange tone - Viktor isn’t used to people other than Yakov taking that tone with him - Viktor reflexively stops to ask what’s the matter. Maybe the doorman noticed his medals. Maybe the doorman will tell Yakov, again, but this time Viktor will get a hospital in the countryside instead of a new prescription. Maybe that’s what he really wants. Maybe the doorman isn’t talking to him. “You’re not allowed in here,” the doorman continues.

Viktor turns and sees the stray. It’s a poodle, the kind Viktor always wanted as a child, but was never able to have. You’re too busy, Yakov always said. Next year. It’s brown, and fluffy, and its coat is very neat. Viktor falls in love instantly.

“He’s mine,” he waves the doorman away. “Come here,” Viktor searches around in his mind for a suitable name. What are dogs called? What sorts of names did he used to dream up when he dreamed? “…Makkachin.”

Makkachin pants a wide, helpless mirror of a smile and gambols up to Viktor’s legs. He puts his paws up on Viktor’s hips and barks.

“Hush, Makkachin,” Viktor says. Makkachin quiets. They get into the elevator together, doorman forgotten.

Viktor tells the building administration he has a dog now. A dog named Makkachin. A wonderful dog named Makkachin. He spends the next four hours buying leashes and collars and dog shampoo and chew toys on the internet, curled up on his couch with Makkachin resting on his legs.

—

Makkachin is an odd dog. Sometimes he stares at Viktor, unblinking, for minutes on end, only to tilt his head very cutely and attempt to find his own tail. Sometimes he appears right next to Viktor soundlessly when Viktor was very sure he was in another room entirely. Sometimes he works the front door open only to greet Viktor in the elevator after practice. Viktor doesn’t really understand how Makkachin does it, but he’s not complaining. He owns the world’s smartest dog, probably.

He loves Makkachin and Makkachin loves him back.

—

He meets Yuuri.

—

Makkachin loves Yuuri immediately. Viktor doesn’t realize he’s relieved until he’s crying on the floor of a converted banquet room covered in packing boxes and the remains of his confidence. His confidence will bounce back, fully restored, by morning light. His relief will last for a few days, until Makkachin starts alternating sleeping in Yuuri’s bed instead of Viktor’s.

It’s not that Viktor’s jealous, exactly, except for the fact that he is _very_ jealous. Makkachin is _his_ dog. Yuuri is _his_ skater. They should both be sleeping with him, not each other. Sometimes Makkachin will sit outside Yuuri’s room, late at night, and stare at Viktor, and whine, before disappearing inside the forbidden room. It’s all extremely unfair.

—

(The beast forgets its name is not Makkachin.)

(The beast forgets it is not a Good Boy.)

(The beast feels Vitya’s cloudy despair soften, lessen, fade.)

(The beast feels Vitya’s joy build.)

(The beast does what it can to keep Vitya in Japan. Japan makes Vitya happy. The beast forgets it ever wanted anything other than Vitya’s happiness.)

(The beast does not return to hell for a long, long time.)

(The beast does not take Vitya with it.)


	26. fancy hotel AU protofic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dadvans asked: TELL ME ABOUT A FANCY HOTEL AU PLEASE
> 
> OKAY

My favorite is when Yuuri and Viktor are concierges at EXTREMELY FANCY hotels across the street from each other. They should hate each other, or, at least they should keep a polite and professional distance from each other. Viktor’s idea of professional distance from Yuuri is sending enormous flower arrangements to the wrong address “by mistake, yes, I’ll pop right over to pick them up, you know me Mr. Katsuki, I’m so forgetful!” And Yuuri really wants to have them delivered by one of his bell hops or something, anyone, anything to not have to embarrass himself in front of Viktor Nikiforov again. For the third time this week!

Viktor walks over to pick up the arrangement. He brings his own bell hop, a stormcloud-faced youth in a smart uniform and a scowl. The flower arrangements are always at least half as big as he is. AT LEAST. “Good afternoon, Yurio, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri bows every time. Both of them always respond so impolitely back (“Call me Viktor!!” “DON’T CALL ME YURIO”) but Yuuri secretly loves it. Viktor stays for twenty minutes and Yurio lingers with him. Yuuri feels a thrill run up and down his spine at all the time he spends chatting when he’s supposed to be working. No one approaches them when they chat, which is lucky. He hasn’t figured out why.

And when Viktor finally, finally leaves, Yuuri bows at him again, and says, “Please enjoy your stay with us” like an idiot. Viktor always takes a single rose from the arrangement and places it in Yuuri’s weak hands, or next to his pocket square, or behind his ear. One of these days he’s going to kill Yuuri.

Without fail Viktor gushes about all of this - of course, for MAXIMUM PINING he doesn’t know how Yuuri feels about any of it yet - on the trip back across the street. He is going to date Katsuki Yuuri, and then he’s going to marry him, and then he’s going to retire from the concierge business to be Yuuri’s stay-at-home trophy husband. Yurio would hit him if his arms weren’t full of flowers. Yurio has thrown the flowers at him exactly once.

Chris is a high class escort.

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE OTHER POSSIBILITIES. VIKTOR THE JAZZ PIANIST AT THE BAR ON THE TWENTY SECOND FLOOR, AND YUURI THE BARTENDER WHO DOESN’T EVEN DRINK ANYMORE BECAUSE OF THE INCIDENTS. YUURI THE MASSEUSE AT THE FANCY SPA AND VIKTOR THE TIRED WORLD CLASS ATHLETE. VIKTOR THE HOTEL MANAGER AND YUURI THE HEAD CHEF AT THE 2 MICHELIN STAR RESTAURANT ON THE SKY TERRACE. YUURI THE TIRED CHANGER OF SHEETS AND VIKTOR THE SMOOTH POLITICIAN. WAIT THAT’S THE PLOT OF MAID IN MANHATTAN.

* * *

 

**EDIT:**

BUT HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN TO MENTION THE FACT THAT WHEN VIKTOR NIKIFOROV IS A GUEST AT A FANCY HOTEL HE HAS FANCY BOUTIQUE GEOMETRIC ~FOR HIS PLEASURE~ CONDOMS BROUGHT TO THE ROOM AND IF THOSE ARE UNAVAILABLE BECAUSE OF TRAGIC GEOMETRIC CONDOM SUPPLY SHORTAGES HE USES THE RIDICULOUSLY OVERPRICED ONES PROVIDED BY THE HOTEL ON THE MINIBAR.

“I refuse to use that,” Yuuri stares at Viktor as though he’s grown two heads and neither of them are beautiful. “There’s a 7-11 across the street. This is,” he picks up the discreet price sheet, “a thousand percent markup.”

“But,” Viktor weakly protests, body splayed against the 1500 thread count sheets, hair and shirt arranged artfully. “It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does,” Yuuri grumbles, toeing on his shoes. His pants are buttoned up and everything. Viktor visibly deflates as Yuuri takes the room key from the holder on the wall and the bedroom is plunged into darkness. He drinks half of the 200 Euro bottle of wine by himself and is only a little bit cheered when Yuuri comes back with convenience store condoms and four kinds of Pocky in flavors he doesn’t like but Viktor does.


	27. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 7 (title: full fall)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Slavic clerics considered use of the hands in mutual masturbation to be more sinful than use of the thighs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for @kevystel. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! THIS PIECE OF VAMPIRE AU TRASH IS ALL YOURS!!!

It is 1015 and it is snowing in Novgorod. It is snowing a day’s journey from Novgorod as well, though that is not unusual and not what makes the night remarkable. On the outskirts of his village a man steps outside, into the windless snowy night, to fetch water. He is not the oldest man in the village, but he is close, with rough hands and sharp eyes. The children call him Snowbeard because their parents do, because his beard has always been white since he was old enough to grow it.

He steps with purpose to the well behind his home.

Before he makes it there he sees a woman wearing plain green skirts. Her hair is long, and dark, and unbound. He knows her, if only vaguely. He knows she says she is from Novgorod. She says her husband was killed by a Khazar. Another man in the village loves her for her dark eyes and her secret smiles.

She has no boots on her feet.

She has something dark on her hands, her mouth, dripping down her neck.

What moonlight is able to sift through the clouds illuminates the blood, but he is old enough to know what it is by smell. His last words are incoherent, and fearful, and angry. She kills him quickly.

But then she brings him back.

—

She doesn’t start calling herself Anya until much later, the 1500s perhaps. Viktor spends the decades hating her and feeling nothing for her in turn. They rarely exist in the same places at the same time, so he rarely has to talk to her or even think about her. Except for when he travels with Georgi. When Viktor travels with Georgi he has to think about Anya constantly because Georgi thinks about Anya constantly.

Viktor thinks back to the day he woke up in the snow next to the well, hungrier than he’d ever been before. He managed to make it all the way until dusk before he found Georgi’s body half-slumped in the river. Viktor had the better part of a day without having to hear an undead Georgi talk about Anya. It was nice.

(It’s been too long since those times. He doesn’t actually remember. He likes to pretend that he does.)

—

It is 1283 and Viktor has forgotten his mother’s face.

—

They try traveling apart, but find they aren’t very good at it. Without Viktor, Georgi reveals himself too easily. He is almost turned to dust fifty-five separate times in their first two hundred years. Viktor has to bodily drag him away from the dangerously soft bosom of a lonely silversmith’s daughter. Life was stopped for Georgi when he was lovesick and desperate; lovesick and desperate is how he will remain in death. At least, that is how he paints it to Viktor. Viktor doesn’t believe him, exactly, because he’s noticed changes in himself. He never traveled past Novgorod in life. He never killed anyone.

Without Georgi, Viktor is extremely maudlin. Or, he will be later.

At first he is extremely cruel, in that careless way those who don’t fear death can be. Life was stopped for Viktor when he was almost the oldest in his village: someone to be respected, someone who did his duty, someone who worked from dark to dark. In death Viktor still works in the dark, but now he plays with his food.

—

It is 1537 and Viktor is tired. He is definitely Viktor now, even if he wasn’t before. He can’t remember if that’s the name his parents gave him or not. He can’t remember his parents. He knows Viktor is not what Anya calls him.

He sees Anya in the winter of 1537, from across a frozen pond on the outskirts of Kiel. She smiles at him and he feels nothing but ice. He follows her, then, because he has to. Anya made him. Anya controls him. That is how it works, and until she dies that is how it will be.

—

Anya dies in 1779.

Viktor is free.

It doesn’t feel like it.

—

It is 1814 and Viktor and Georgi are in Paris again, because why not be in Paris? Viktor likes Paris. No one misses the dregs of humanity in Paris. So Georgi and he are in Paris, scrounging through the gutters, staggering to their dark corners every morning with wine red stains down the front of their shirts. Sometimes it’s really wine. Mostly it’s not.

Alcohol doesn’t affect them the same way now that they’re dead. They can’t metabolize it - not that they will understand the reason for several more decades yet - and they have to purge it if they drink it. They only thing they don’t have to get rid of is blood.

Of the two of them, Georgi was the one who discovered how to get drunk. As it turns out, drinking every drop of blood from someone near death with alcohol poisoning can make a vampire intoxicated for a little while. Viktor spends his time in Paris targeting bars and salons. He drinks, and he forgets. He doesn’t remember much of the last twenty years. Thirty? He doesn’t remember. He thinks Georgi figured out how to get really, properly drunk after Anya died.

They’d tried it before, the getting drunk, but it never tasted good, or right. Not like Viktor remembers from his days in his village. Or how he thinks he remembers.

Viktor doesn’t fall back into sobriety, oddly enough, until he returns to Russia.

He makes a home in Saint Petersburg.

He likes it there, by the sea.

Georgi continues on south, down to Spain, and Viktor closes himself off in the library of a grand house. He spends a few years writing down everything he knows about himself, about vampires, even about Anya. He thinks that when he finishes his great work - his death’s achievement - he will step out into the sun at midday and finish himself as well.

—

The sunlight gives him a rash.

Viktor did not expect this.

—

It is 2017 and Viktor opens his apartment door expecting to see Mari standing there for her weekly check on him. She’s told him she wants to be the one to kill him, if Yuuri will ever let her, and if she doesn’t see him she worries someone else has gotten to him first. It warms the lump of muscle that used to be Viktor’s heart to think about it.

It isn’t Mari.

It’s Georgi.

“I got your letter,” Georgi says, eyes wide and rimmed in dark purple liner. Viktor likes the way Georgi’s matched his makeup to his belt today. He finds it tasteful. “You have to tell me everything!”

They have tea - once Viktor invites Georgi in, bubbly like a child of 300, giggling and stumbling over all he wants to say about Hasetsu and the guild and Yuuri and Makkachin and Yuuri and Yuuri and also Yuuri - and a chat. Georgi came to Japan alone, but he’s bearing his most recent breakup well. Unliving vicariously through Viktor might have something to do with it, in which case Viktor is proud to have enough happiness to share.

This is how Yuuri finds them later that evening: a pile of actual printed photographs spread out across Viktor’s kitchen table, a dark and light head each leaned over them. Inspecting and laughing and remembering. Makkachin asleep on the floor at their feet.

Yuuri almost keeps his shoes on. He almost turns around to leave.

Georgi sees him first. “Is that… That’s him? That’s your Yuuri?” He stands and points like a dramatic actor on a gaudy stage. (Later, Viktor reassures Yuuri he’s just like this all the time.) Makkachin raises his head and barks once, tail wagging madly.

“Yuuri!” Viktor says. His face might be glowing. Judging by Georgi’s smug expression his face is definitely glowing. Viktor doesn’t care. “Come in, come in, this is Georgi! He came all the way from Vienna to meet you.” He grabs Georgi’s shoulder and moves them both in the direction of the entryway, where Yuuri is still standing, shoes still on. Uncertainty grips Viktor when he’s an arm’s length away and Yuuri still hasn’t said anything. Viktor… he’s afraid, almost. He’s afraid Yuuri won’t like Georgi. He’s afraid Yuuri will.

“It is most wonderful to meet you!” Georgi bows. The half-cape he’s wearing flutters with the motion. “I’ve read so much about you! You’re just as handsome in person as Vitya described you. I thought the attention he paid to your nose was excessive, but I see now I was wrong and his letters had the right of it.”

Yuuri blinks, confused, but bows back instinctively. Viktor waits.

“…thank you?” Yuuri says. Asks. He toes off his shoes, then, which is all that really matters. He takes his poodle-patterned slippers from their spot on the rack next to the door and shuffles into Viktor’s apartment like it will provide the relief he needs from Georgi and Georgi’s… Georgi-ness.

He touches Viktor’s hand as he passes through the hallway and towards the kitchen.

Viktor could write a sonnet about that touch. He’s going to. He’s going to do it and he’ll put it in a letter to Georgi, even if Georgi stays in Japan for a while. He knows Georgi prefers communicating via post anyway.

He’ll start by describing Yuuri’s face.

—

They go to Nagoya for a weekend. Yuuri has a conference. Viktor didn’t know vampire hunters had conferences, but apparently they do, and this time they asked Yuuri to be a guest speaker. Viktor’s not surprised; Yuuri’s very smart. He knows a lot of things about vampires.

Not as much as Viktor, of course, but no one does.

Viktor tags along because he figures there’s a lot he could teach them, being the expert, and because Yuuri doesn’t say he can’t. Yuuri says Makkachin can’t go, which is disappointing, but Mari volunteers to watch him.

“I’ll take good care of him,” she says, taking the leash and the tin of approved dog biscuits and the list of places Makkachin likes to sniff on his walks - organized by time of day - from Viktor when he drops Makkachin off at BOBATOPIA. “You kids have fun.”

She winks at Yuuri, then, but Viktor misses it. He’s too busy wondering why she called him a kid. He’s been undead longer than Hasetsu’s been a town.

They take the Nozomi to Nagoya, which excites Viktor to no end. He may have ridden on thousands of trains in his unlifetime, but it still amazes him how fast the bullet trains can go. He spends the entire way there looking out the window, and telling Yuuri to look out the window, and nudging Yuuri gently to wake him up so he can look out the window.

They also take the Nozomi back from Nagoya, but instead of transferring to the local train in Hakata, Yuuri leads them out of the station. Viktor follows. Yuuri didn’t mention needing to do any errands on the way home. Plus, it’s past dark. The only errands Viktor can remember doing in the dark are things he would prefer not to remember - killing people, mostly; also buying soft drinks in lonely 24 hour shops, hoping to stave away the thirst - and Yuuri had a beer on the train. He probably isn’t thirsty.

He leads them to a hotel.

They get a room for the night. It can supposedly fit two people, but Viktor can tell once Yuuri unlocks the door that it will be snug with both of their suitcases inside. At least Yuuri only has to worry about one body. Viktor will find somewhere nearby to occupy himself until Yuuri is ready to leave in the morning; he doesn’t have to sleep, because he’s dead, so it’s not really any trouble to wander while Yuuri gets his rest. Yuuri has to sleep, because Yuuri’s alive.

It will be like sightseeing, except everything will be closed.

“Well,” Yuuri says. He’s put his suitcase against the door to hold it open. “Okay. Okay.”

His face is flushed. Viktor hopes he’s not feeling ill. If he is, Viktor can go get medicine for him. He doesn’t remember what medicines humans use these days - camphor? Laudanum? Can he still get laudanum at this time of night? - but if Yuuri writes something down Viktor can find it for him.

“Okay,” Yuuri says again. He takes a deep breath and then he looks directly into Viktor’s eyes. Viktor loses track of time.

“Viktor?”

“Hm?”

“I said,” Yuuri gulps, fever red, “you can come in.”

“For the tincture?” Viktor asks.

“What?” Yuuri’s forehead creases as he frowns, and that snaps Viktor out of it, a little. “No, I. What? I said you can come in. I’m,” he gestures at himself, at the dingy little room, “I’m inviting you in.”

Viktor doesn’t get it.

And then Viktor gets it.

—

 _They_ didn’t get a room.

 _Yuuri_ rented a room. The room is _Yuuri’s_.

Yuuri invited Viktor in.

—

It is 2017 and it is snowing in Hakata. Viktor watches the flakes drift gently down through the small rectangular window opposite the bed. There can’t be any wind for the snow to fall so softly, so quietly.

Next to him, Yuuri sighs in his sleep and tries to roll over. He can’t, because they are lying shoulder-to-shoulder as it is. The bed is really too small for two people.

Viktor’s last thoughts before he succumbs to a mimicry of sleep are incoherent, and safe, and full of a deep, contented joy. When he wakes he’s going to write a letter to Georgi about it, but that is for then. For now he feels the heat at his side and lets his mind drift off with the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Title and summary quote from a book I found while doing a bit of quick research for this fic. I did research for a fucking vampire AU fic. You probably can’t tell, but I looked up a bunch of dumb things for this dumb fic. Hope you like it anyway, kev, AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
> 
> (Book is called Sex and Society in the World of Orthodox Slavs, 900-1700 btw)]]


	28. (attempt at) sex things that make viktor blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: uuuum u should tell us about the sex things that make victor blush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’LL TRY, ANON, I’LL TRY. BUT YOU SHOULD KNOW I’VE ALWAYS BEEN BETTER AT FEELINGS PORN THAN BODY PARTS PORN:

\- viktor thinks he has a handle on his appreciation of yuuri manhandling him. he does not. after the rostelecom cup and before the final - when they are toying with the choreography for the exhibition skate yuuri is too apprehensive to say he’ll ever get to show anyone, but too proud to believe he’ll never need - yuuri cleanly grabs viktor by the hips and hoists him up into the air. viktor’s nose goes very, very red as he looks down at yuuri’s blank face. eight whole beats go by before yuuri realizes that viktor has gotten distracted - and WHY - and it all ends up as a heap on the floor of minako’s studio.

\- wait that wasn’t exactly a sex thing.

\- but it could be.

\- they have sex on the floor of minako’s studio. it is so awkward for yuuri because this place has so many memories for him AND THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SEXY MEMORIES so instead of thinking he gets down to business before his mind can stop him. viktor wants this, and yuuri has dreamed of this since the dawn of his pubescence, so he needs to stop thinking and just feel. viktor wants this. yuuri still can’t believe viktor really wants this. believing is thinking and yuuri needs to stop thinking, he has to, this is so much of what he’s wanted for so long.

\- shit i made it sad.

\- i can fix this.

\- MEANWHILE viktor doesn’t know any of that. viktor is over the moon. in his haste to not dwell on things that will destroy him yuuri has been grabbing viktor by the hips, by the arms, by the chest, and putting him exactly where he wants him, to viktor’s very vocal approval. you know viktor’s a screamer. this is something we can all agree on.

\- it is rough and unplanned and viktor’s back will not thank him for it later. he twists himself whatever way yuuri sets him anyway, even if he doesn’t strictly need to, just to prove he can.

\- i don’t know why i’m describing this so acrobatically, i’m just imagining yuuri thighfucking him or something. pretend they’re doing something super bendy. idk. let’s get back on the feelings train. all aboard.

\- that moment after yuuri FINALLY realizes he’s been coming on to viktor through subconscious food metaphors for months, when yuuri finally does it on purpose.

\- yuuri using clumsy pickup russian 101 on viktor when viktor is trying to present his sanitized public face to the world. where the library is at, vitya, where. viktor does not have an exhibition kink. viktor has a watching yuuri get off on something kink. viktor has an inappropriate erection at a press conference for the fall line of pocket squares he’s agreed to model for. yuuri is sitting next to him for immoral support. viktor’s face does not appear to change color at all through the four layers of foundation he’s got on.

\- bonus: yuuri agreed to model for this brand (idk le pocket squares r oui) at fashion week after viktor whined about it for months. the runway director’s theme is dapper picnics. yuuri has four outfits involving six pocket squares and no shoes. viktor applies a fifth layer of foundation with extra powder to set and he’s STILL having to lie about the blush he’s wearing at the after party.


	29. 5 times yurio looked back on his shameful past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: a;sldkfj that 23yo yurio tag, pretty please a 5 times older yurio wanted to go back in time and strangle his 15yo self???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would probably take him less than a day to regret his EXTREMELY EMBARRASSING FIFTEEN YEAR OLD SELF five times. Just. Yeah.
> 
> But for something a little more interesting:

\+ It’s fine when Yakov makes him rewatch old performances, because that’s his job. That’s what Yakov does. But when VIKTORANDYUURI as they are known in the future do it, Yurio wishes he could go back in time and drown himself. HE DOES NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON EITHER OF THEM ANYMORE. HE DOES NOT. But the bruise reasserts itself when Yuuri makes a bland comment about a detail in his skating or Viktor makes a comment about his wardrobe choices. Yurio wouldn’t change a thing. He wouldn’t! But it is still extremely embarrassing to look back on what he thought was so grown up. So cool.

\+ When he’s 30 he’ll look back on the electric pink leopard print hot pants and think ‘fuck yeah i used to fit in those’. When he’s 23 he will look at the pictures and want to burn them. Lilia saves them because there are lessons to be learned from them.

\+ Obligatory mention of the award-winning When I Think About You I Touch Myself / She Will Be Loved program.

\+ When he looks back on all the times he asked Otabek to HELP HIM or DO THIS or TAKE HIM HERE or SHARE THIS ICE CREAM. He just. He thought he was being SO CHILL. He unfortunately takes after his dads when it comes to chill. : (

\+ He will hate his fifteen year old self for being such a little bitch to Yuuri, even though Yuuri tells him ‘Yurio don’t worry about it!’ and 'I always knew what you meant’ and 'You weren’t a little bitch’ and 'Well EVERYONE’S a little bitch at that age.’ (Yuuri is right on that one, but Yurio will be too busy cringing as Lutz plays him one of her old videos of him and Yuuri training for Onsen on Ice to hear him.)


	30. maid in manhattan AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: PLEASE do a Maid in Manhattan AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon i saw this and wanted to do something good for it, but instead you get this. SOMEONE ELSE SHOULD DO A REAL AND PROPER ONE I’M SORRY. if it were a real fic i would call it “Skater in Sochi” and it would take place in Russia idk during the GPF, but i got lazy so instead it is in nowhereland, America and Viktor is a senator from Florida.

Phichit straightens Yuuri’s tie for the second time, which is no small thing, because this time he does it while Yuuri paces. The pacing is why Yuuri’s tie came askew in the first place. The pacing has been going on for the last half hour. Phichit’s counting this as his post-work jog.

“He thinks I’m a rich and famous figure skater, Phichit, what part of that is okay?” Yuuri runs a hand through his gelled hair and makes another turn around the large table set up in the center of the hotel’s laundry room. There’s not much Phichit can do about Yuuri’s hair, but it looks more windswept than garbage pile, so.

“You have to take the chances that are given to you,” Phichit says. “Also I love you, but if you don’t stop moving I’m gonna put a bow on you and lock you in Nikiforov’s suite tonight before dinner.”

It’s a serious threat. Yuuri stops pacing.

Nikiforov.

Senator Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri is going to lunch with Senator Viktor Nikiforov today.

Yuuri took the trash out of Senator Viktor Nikiforov’s bathroom yesterday. He didn’t keep any of it. (Viktor ran out of toner yesterday and Yuuri spent the hours of 3 to 5am worried he hadn’t gotten a replacement.)

“Not that I think you should think of that as a punishment,” Phichit continues, catching up to Yuuri, who has stilled, “he’s clearly really into you and you’ve got a big dumb politician crush on him.”

“I don’t. You can’t. What. I,” Yuuri brings up a carefully-crafted argument against Phichit’s slanderous accusation. “People don’t get crushes on politicians,” he says, “who does that. I don’t. No.” He pulls on his tie and ignores Phichit’s aggrieved sigh. “I think he has good ideals.”

“Oh,” Phichit rolls his eyes so hard the rest of his head moves with them, “right, excuse me, I forgot. You have all those Fortune and GQ covers taped up in your locker because of his _policies_. That makes sense. You like the bills he’s proposing.”

Yuuri did not expect capitulation this soon.

“You want to see what’s on his _docket_.”

And there it is.

“You want to _get on his platform_.”

Yuuri mumbles something about redistricting in Florida. Phichit ignores him.

“That makes way more sense than you having a crush on a politician. You just like the _positions_ he has!” This is a trick. Yuuri would throw himself in Viktor’s room naked at dinner just to get away from this. “The big crush you’ve got on his sexy body has nothing to do with it!”

Yuuri makes his escape after that, because about ten maids and three stewards who had at least been pretending not to listen from the edges of the room before are now sniggering at his expense and he doesn’t need that. He doesn’t. Plus, it’s almost lunch. Viktor’s waiting for him in the lobby.


	31. yuuri + anxiety eating, pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get over yourself, Trevor.

Trevor is struggling a little. Sure, it’s only been a couple weeks since Winter semester started, but he is struggling and at least he’s strong enough to admit it to himself. So what if he didn’t go home over the holidays? So what if that guy from the hockey team hasn’t texted since Thanksgiving? So what if his Intro to Biostats class is destroying him faster than a disease with an R naught of 5?

He’s struggling, okay.

Trevor is having problems.

They’re not bad enough for him to keep sleeping on his sheets after spilling a case full of Gatorade on them, though, so after soaking most of his clothes and all of his blankets in Arctic Blitz he drags his heavy feet and heavy heart and heavy laundry bag to the washers on the floor below his. He does this at 3am on a Saturday because he has nothing better to do. Nowhere better to be. He expects the laundry room to be completely dark.

And it is, almost.

When he opens the door he notices the low rumble of the dryers going and a harsh rectangle of light. Someone is lying spread across a couple of the dryers, watching something on their laptop. Trevor wouldn’t want to bother them, but Trevor is having problems and one of those problems - his blitzed sheets - can only be fixed by bothering dryer person. Sucks to be dryer person.

He turns on the lights.

It does not even phase the guy on the dryers.

It phases Trevor.

The guy on the dryers phases Trevor.

Yes, the guy - all long lines and smooth skin and jesus herbert christ his _legs_ \- is dipping a Slim Jim into a half-empty jar of Hellmann’s, and from the wrappers cluttering the ground it’s not his first Slim Jim. It’s not even his first jar. Yes, he’s watching opera or some crap like that, going by the music. Opera with commentary, or something, it sounds like ESPN for classical music. Some Russian guy is winning? Dryer Guy might be crying. Trevor can’t tell. Dryer Guy licks a glob of mayo off the end of a Slim Jim and dips it back for more. Trevor can’t remember why he’s in the laundry room.

Trevor is having problems, and all of Trevor’s problems involve remembering to breathe.


	32. yuuri the terrifying sleeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlo asked: victor/yuuri, #34 (things you said in your sleep)

The cold wakes him more than anything else. Viktor sighs and rolls over one way, then the other. He opens his eyes after a fruitless moment. It’s cold in their bedroom, and dark, and quiet. He wouldn’t have a problem with that normally, but Yuuri’s stolen all the blankets and Makkachin is gone, probably wandering around the apartment in silent loops. Viktor noticed Makkachin does that somewhere around his final Junior Worlds victory. It’s like Makkachin is patrolling the darkness to keep Viktor safe, like there would be anything to hurt him behind his own closed doors. It’s cute.

What’s less cute is the lack of blankets, although their thief is the cutest thing Viktor has ever seen or imagined or dreamed or wanted.

Viktor turns to Yuuri - to slip in under the covers he’s hoarded, to maybe wake him up with a gentle touch - but when he does he sees Yuuri’s big brown eyes already looking at him through the darkness.

“No,” Yuuri says.

 _Oh no_ , Viktor thinks.

“Don’t,” Yuuri says.

 _Exactly_. Viktor bites his lower lip, but snuggles closer anyway. He’s going to need comfort in a few moments, and it’s ridiculous, but holding Yuuri helps even when he’s the one drawing an eerie chill up Viktor’s spine. (He’s never letting Yuuri play The Ring before bedtime ever again. Viktor thought it was about rings! Rings! Viktor does not need to be embarrassed because Viktor was lied to!) Viktor is a man grown. Viktor is fearless.

Viktor is afraid of the things his husband says at night.

“Don’t take him away from me,” Yuuri says. He hasn’t blinked since Viktor woke up. His eyes are going to be very red in the morning, and Viktor would close his eyelids for him, but he’s too busy pretending to be a vise around Yuuri’s middle.

“I’ll fight you.”

“Viktor, run.”

“Viktor.”

“Viktor I’ll find you.”

“Viktor, I love you.”

It’s still strange. And it’s still scary. And Viktor might still have nightmares about the things his husband says at night. But this time… it was also sweet. He plunges back into sleep with a chill running up his spine. This time he likes it.


	33. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: for the meme: 52) things you said with my lips on your neck. (can we request specific au's? because your vampire au is absurd and hilarious and also surprisingly poignant and I love it to bitty bits...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANON HOW DARE

Viktor realizes he’s alive a heartbeat before he starts to die again. A thousand years is a long time for an unconscious bodily function to remain dormant - gone? killed? dead? Viktor was dead? - and his heart might have taken to beating, but his lungs have a harder time with breathing.

 _Thump_.

He feels dizzy.

 _Thump_.

And confused?

 _Thump_.

Like he’s going to be sick.

 _Thump_.

But above all…

_Thump._

There is _one thing_ Viktor wants more than anything else.

_Thump._

He launches himself at Yuuri. Wonderful Yuuri, who hasn’t invited Viktor into his home yet, but who invited Viktor into his life. Beautiful Yuuri, who’s trying to sound out something in Romanian that Viktor was too distracted by the soft curve of his cheeks to tell him means ‘the jilted vampire fled the village, crying. the other one had a great butt.’ Amazing Yuuri, who smells like garlic butter, who has silver wrapped around his throat.

To be honest, Viktor misses the burn.

“Vi-” Yuuri starts, then stops, then chokes, then fumbles with the bag of rice he keeps in his pocket always.

Viktor ignores the rice. Viktor _can_ ignore the rice. Viktor isn’t dead anymore.

“It’s fine, I’m not,” he says, stops, gasps, has to breathe, how do you breathe, how do you speak when all you want to do is get your face _that_ much closer to Katsuki Yuuri’s skin, can one of Yuuri’s books help Viktor with this, can nothing help Viktor with this, “I’m alive.”

Yuuri freezes. It makes mouthing at that spot between his neck and his collarbone much easier, but simultaneously a little less fun. Not that that stops Viktor. Viktor is alive. Viktor’s blood is racing, and it’s all _his._

“You’re alive.”

“Mmm,” Viktor says, which means ‘yes’ and ‘can I bite you now please can I please’ and ‘garlic butter’ all at once.

Yuuri grabs Viktor by the shoulders.

Yuuri pulls him closer.

“Harder,” he says, and Viktor has never heard anything better in his entire death. Life. _Life_.


	34. closet pervert AU snippet, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cafecliche asked: Viktuuri, #38! (things you said while holding my hand)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! but I will pick the setting, then, and I pick [closet pervert AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10156814), which I said I wouldn’t write anything else for, but hush I’ve had a long day.

Yuuri’s carrying a box of figurines - it’s his third box of things from the truck, after his sex toys and his computer - when he has to ask. “Doesn’t this normally go the other way?” He shrugs his shoulders at the pure white hallway and the picture windows.

Ahead of him, Viktor balances a cardboard cutout of himself on his hip so he can push the books propping his apartment door open further back. “Doesn’t what?” Viktor asks.

“This.”

They walk inside Viktor’s apartment.

Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment, now.

They walk inside, and Viktor steps gingerly over Makkachin and Vicchan who are sleeping in the middle of the floor. “Do you want your posters of me in the bedroom or the office?” He turns to watch Yuuri enter through the doorway after him, Cheshire smile so smugly attractive Yuuri could stare at it all night and not need anything to eat.

“The office,” Yuuri says, “For now. But. _Viktor_.”

“ _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri sets the box of figurines down on a low glass table in the main room. He’s not sure where he wants to put them, or if Viktor will want him to hide them in the bedroom - their bedroom - like Yuuri used to in his old apartment. Does Viktor get many guests here who would mind? Yuuri doesn’t think so. He’s mostly only seen Mila here, sometimes Chris. Chris who lives with his customers. And that’s exactly what Yuuri is curious about - shouldn’t _Viktor_ be mooching off of _him_ , and not the other way around?

Viktor let Yuuri move into his expensive apartment. He paid the fee to break Yuuri’s lease. He paid for Vicchan’s last vist to the vet, and for Yuuri’s dentist appointment in February, and for the alpaca wool sweater Yuuri’s currently wearing underneath his favorite coat. For someone who’s supposed to be using Yuuri he’s certainly spending a lot of money to do it.

“Yuuri?” Something grabs Yuuri’s right hand. That something is Viktor’s hand. He’s clearly so pleased with himself, whether for dropping off the posters in the office or for getting Yuuri to move in with him Yuuri doesn’t know. “What should we move next?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri says, and for a second Viktor’s smile cuts out. He almost seems to shrink. Yuuri should feel worse about eliciting that kind of response, but it’s not like he did it on purpose. Viktor should know that. “I need to rest.”

“Of course,” Viktor says, snapping up and pulling Yuuri back onto an almost comfortable leather couch. He continues to hold Yuuri’s hand.

Good.

“If you’re going to leave me and kick me out,” Yuuri ventures, because if Viktor will refuse to answer his original question maybe a rephrasing will do, “you should tell me now. While Miss Okukawa still likes me. So I can keep my old apartment. The rent was cheap there.”

With every syllable Yuuri speaks the pressure on his right hand gets steadily more intense.

“I’m not,” Viktor says, frown lines creasing his forehead. Makkachin looks up from his spot on the floor. He rumbles at them - to comfort Viktor? to warn Yuuri? both? - before lowering his head back down again. “I’m not going to. I’m never taking my eyes off you.”

It’s a miracle no one steals the rest of Yuuri’s earthly possessions, considering the length of time they leave the truck on the street with the back wide open. Viktor sighs something about trying harder next time when they finally do make it back down to carry up Yuuri’s shirts and books and bicycle.


	35. wedding night weeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> codenamecesare asked: Things you said meme: 31! (things you said while I cried in your arms)

“Yuuri,” Viktor says to the crown of Yuuri’s head, but also to the ceiling.

“What,” Yuuri sniffles. His voice is going to be throaty and raw tomorrow. His eyes are going to burn from all the salt. He should get up and wash his face. He knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. He doesn’t. He’s too comfortable lying on top of Viktor in the converted banquet room that will probably be Vicchan’s room to his mother until the end of time. He should at least peel himself out of his suit.

He doesn’t do that either.

“Yuuri, I forgot to get the paperwork,” Viktor says, which gives Yuuri half a heartbeat’s panic to think that maybe nothing was official, maybe Viktor didn’t sign the right thing, maybe they’re still not married. (Of course they’re still not married, technically, legally, but they’re the closest thing Japan will permit, unless the paperwork…?) “For Makkachin.”

“For Makkachin?” Yuuri hiccups. It happens when he cries. Yuuri is an expert at crying. Or, he’s an expert at crying when he’s sad. These tears of happiness are a little new to him.

“Mmmm,” Viktor agrees, rubbing his cheek against the top of Yuuri’s head. He’s still wearing his suit too. Yuuri will fix that as soon as he stops crying. “To change his name. Makkachin can’t stay a Nikiforov if I’m a Katsuki now. I wouldn’t want him to be an orphan.”

Yuuri could argue with that logic, but he doesn’t want to. He buries his wet cheeks in the folds of Viktor’s jacket and sniffles mucus all over Viktor’s pocket square. Viktor rubs his back in slow circles.

They tell people they got so drunk they couldn’t remember the night Viktor was adopted into the Katsuki family. It’s not exactly true.


	36. border guard yuuri + frequent flyer viktor, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 58, please! For Victuuri would be my favorite, but any other pairing is wonderful too! (58: things you were afraid to say)

“I, uh,” Yuuri stumbles over his thoughts and his mouth and his inability to ever help himself when he needs it most. “Here. Your passport. Japan.” He tries not to cringe. He cringes. “Welcome.”

Nikiforov, Viktor takes his passport back. His hand touches Yuuri’s for just a moment. “Have a wonderful day,” he says like a normal, nice, beautiful person. He slides the customs form Yuuri was supposed to keep back across the counter to him, and then walks away. Yuuri is supposed to face forwards at all times. Yuuri turns to watch him go.

Nikiforov, Viktor’s flight is the Monday 10:35 from Moscow. He always flies to Narita on Monday mornings. He always arrives at passport control in the first wave of slightly-less bleary business class passengers. He always looks very nice. He always chooses Yuuri’s booth. (Even when Yuuri’s working a Japanese nationals only lane. What could that mean???)

Yuuri wants to ask what that means.

What does Nikiforov, Viktor do in Tokyo?

If he flies to Tokyo every week, why doesn’t he just move?

If paperwork is the problem, Yuuri can help him out with that.

It’s probably good Yuuri is too afraid to speak normally around Nikiforov, Viktor. If he weren’t he would have already proposed marriage to a foreign stranger. And who would want a thing like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ @sonatine I REALIZED TOO LATE BORDER GUARD YUURI WOULD BE PERFECT FOR THIS MEME WITH THE HAND HOLDING PROMPT BUT I NO LONGER HAVE ONE OF THOSE IN MY INBOX DAMMIT ]


	37. border guard yuuri + frequent flyer viktor, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 38. Border patrol yuuri (38: things you said while holding my hand)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANON YOU ARE SPEEDY QUICK

When Yuuri was a little boy he dreamed of being a professional ballet dancer. He wanted to be Odette. He wanted to be the Firebird. He wanted to fly across the stage just like Miss Minako did. One particularly bad meniscus tear later - capping off a childhood of ankle sprains and various other injuries - and that dream died. Yuuri can walk, but Yuuri cannot dance. Yuuri can always tell when it’s about to rain.

Yuuri spends most of his days inside.

Narita is climate controlled. As he sees it, that and the paycheck are the best parts about working for the Immigration Bureau. Or, that is how he sees it until one Monday morning at 10:46, when he looks down at his watch and then looks up only to see an angel in front of him. The angel hands him a Russian passport. The angel asks him if everything is all right. The angel apologizes if he filled out any of the forms incorrectly.

The angel’s name is Nikiforov, Viktor. 

Yuuri maybe looks him up in the system after he leaves. Nikiforov, Viktor is 28. City of residence: Saint Petersburg, Russia. Profession: Teacher. Ass: Amazing.

Yuuri’s boss stops by to ask if Yuuri had any concerns. He does that when Yuuri takes too long with travelers, like it’s Yuuri’s fault he keeps finding suitcases full of cocaine. Yuuri bets Nikiforov, Viktor doesn’t have a cocaine importation habit. He bets Nikiforov, Viktor reads the newspaper and could do the splits if he really wanted to.

He lets it go at the end of the day, though. If there’s anything Yuuri has learned from his life so far it’s that it’s not healthy to dwell on the things he cannot have. Nikiforov, Viktor was a handsome stranger and Yuuri is never going to see him again, and even if he did what would it matter? They don’t know each other. They don’t mean anything to each other.

—

Yuuri sees him again the next Monday.

—

And the Monday after that.

—

A pattern develops. Nikiforov, Viktor takes the 10:35 flight to Narita from Moscow every Monday. He finds Yuuri at passport control. Maybe he likes seeing a familiar face? Maybe he thinks everything will go faster since Yuuri obviously recognizes him? (It doesn’t. Nikiforov, Viktor ruins all of Yuuri’s productivity stats.) Yuuri doesn’t know. Yuuri would love to know.

Nikiforov, Viktor is a little less smart than Yuuri thought he would be that first Monday.

For instance, there is the fingerprint scanner. Nikiforov, Viktor has only used the fingerprint scanner properly once - that first time. Every time since he’s needed Yuuri’s intervention, even though there is a very helpful animation with captions in multiple languages demonstrating the correct way to place one’s hand on the glass. “Ah, this thing,” Nikiforov, Viktor will say with a sparkle in his eyes, “You know I’m terrible with this thing, Yuuri. Could you?”

Yuuri could until he dies. “Ah…,” he mumbles, “Yes.”

He sits up and reaches over and hopes his uniform shirt doesn’t untuck itself again from his uniform pants. It doesn’t, not since that second time, because Yuuri gave in and requested a bigger size. Yuuri cannot dance, but Yuuri can eat, and Yuuri can sit. There’s more to Yuuri now than there used to be - in body mass, in uncertainty, in emotional turmoil, in some ways in strength.

He grabs Nikiforov, Viktor’s right hand and places it over the scanner’s glass surface. He presses down gently. He reminds himself that just because Nikiforov, Viktor doesn’t wear a ring and doesn’t have a partnership on file doesn’t mean _anything_. He thinks about how soft Nikiforv, Viktor’s hands are. He thinks about how Nikiforov, Viktor smells like cinnamon. He waits until his computer beeps at him - yes, this is Nikiforov, Viktor’s right hand, no, he’s still not a felon, yes, your parents would love him - and then, reluctantly, lets Nikiforov, Viktor’s hand go.

Nikiforov, Viktor always raises his left hand for Yuuri without prompting. He doesn’t put it on the machine himself, even though Yuuri will have always just shown him how to go through the procedure with his right. And that is fine by Yuuri. That is wonderful. Wow, that’s amazing.

Sometimes Nikforov, Viktor says things while he’s waiting for Yuuri to let go of his hand. Sometimes he asks how long Yuuri’s been working for the Immigration Bureau and if he likes it, or what other shifts Yuuri works, or if Yuuri likes dogs. Yuuri _loves_ dogs. He spends 52 seconds telling Nikiforov, Viktor how much he loves dogs one Monday and he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“If only everyone in Japan were like you, Yuuri, I would never leave,” Nikiforov, Viktor says one Monday after 23 seconds of having his left hand held by Yuuri for Immigration reasons. Today he smells like peaches.

“But then you couldn’t come back,” Yuuri says. Yuuri went to university. He almost got in to Todai.

“I’ll always come back for you,” Nikiforov, Viktor says. Of course, he says it in Japanese, which means he probably meant to say something else and got the words a little mixed up. Yuuri’s had that thing happen to him before with beginning speakers. He tries not to hold it against Nikiforov, Viktor, but his heart is a traitor.

Nikiforov, Viktor leaves again, eventually, 49 seconds later.

Yuuri eats airport udon during his lunch break and thinks of all the things he didn’t have the courage to say.


	38. breaking news AU snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cutthroatpixie asked: BREAKING NEWS: Local Man Would Like To Date Other Local Man one year later! for both vik and yuuri and mila and her mystery date :P

“But Mila,” Viktor grins. His teeth glint menacingly into the camera. They’re almost bright enough to detract from the impressive reflections being created by the ring on his right hand. “Are you sure it’s time to start wearing linen again? It doesn’t feel summery to me yet!”

“Oh Viktor,” Mila laughs. “Don’t ask me, I can’t predict the future! But you do look good in white.”

“I do,” he says. His ring glints harder than his teeth. Behind the camera Lilia Baranovskaya mutters to herself darkly in Russian.

“I know who can tell us how the weekend’s going to go!” Mila shouts. “Let’s go to Channel 9 Action News Meteorologist, Yuuri Katsuki!”

The camera pans to the left. Yuuri is standing in front of a green screen. His face is as blank as the animated sun digitally-added to the screen behind him is jubilant. It is not as jubilant as the obnoxiously bright gold ring on Yuuri’s own right hand, or the yellow raincoat Yuuri is wearing even though he’s inside, but it’s doing its best. Yuuri feels for it.

“Yuuri,” Mila asks, grabbing Viktor’s hand between hers, effectively covering up his lighthouse beacon gold ring. “What’s in store for us this weekend?”

“I thought you had a date with Sara?” Yuuri tries to adjust glasses he isn’t wearing and squints into the stage lights. The man behind his teleprompter sighs. “You said earlier you got waxed and everything.”

Mila’s smile is frighteningly perfect. “And how will the weather on my friend date with my friend at the beach be?”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “Fuck. Right, it’s going to be sunny. Just,” he waves aimlessly behind himself, “look at the graphic.”

Viktor licks his lips. Mila jabs him with a pen underneath their desk. “It’s wonderful it will warm up from the negative ten degrees of chill we’re dealing with right now,” she says brightly.

“What?” Yuuri says. His eyebrows crease. Viktor mouths something suspiciously like ‘ _Marry me again_.’ “No. We’re inside. There’s no wind chill? Because we’re inside. And it’s not like it was cold out this week. I don’t…”

Channel 9 Action News cuts to a feature about a skateboarding dog.


	39. border guard yuuri + frequent flyer viktor, pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: victuuri 53 + 16 ;)
> 
> 53) things you said in the dark  
> 16) things you said with no space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [for the record, i apologize]

There are movies where the love interest goes home with the protagonist. They can’t keep their hands off each other in the cab. They start undoing buttons in the hallway. The door slams into the opposite wall when they open it with the full weight of their bodies furiously fighting to get that much closer.

Yuuri watches these movies on his phone when he’s really bored between flights and not even stock photos of ham can distract him from the fact that it is not Monday morning and won’t be for days yet.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever have that kind of moment in his life.

And he doesn’t.

When he takes Viktor back to his apartment for the first time they take the train. They stand next to each other, but they don’t touch. Their car is crowded. Yuuri’s still in his uniform pants. His sweater doesn’t have buttons to undo in the hallway. Viktor’s hands are busy holding his suitcase and briefcase. Yuuri opens his door quietly because otherwise his neighbor’s dog will wake up and start barking and his other neighbors will complain and he’s so busy worrying about all that that he misses it completely when Viktor tackles them to the ground.

Viktor puts his hand behind Yuuri’s head as they fall. It’s thoughtful of him.

They kiss on the floor until Yuuri sneezes three times in a row. He hasn’t vacuumed in longer than he can remember. When they separate Viktor says “squishy” with a dazed look on his face.

—

There are practical things to consider about taking Viktor home for the week:

\- Viktor’s suits need to be hung up but Yuuri’s closet is tiny.

\- Yuuri’s bed is a single.

\- Viktor has to leave at 6am every day anyway to get himself over to the New National Theatre in time for his first meetings of the day.

\- Yuuri lives off of takeout and the kinds of snack foods Viktor hasn’t allowed himself to even smell since he was seven.

But they figure it out, somehow, a little at a time.

—

“Please,” Viktor breathes into Yuuri’s mouth on Wednesday night. Thursday morning? Yuuri’s not wearing his watch anymore. The list of things Yuuri’s not wearing is full and comprehensive. “Tell me you don’t have to go in early tomorrow. I cancelled morning rehearsal.”

“Just the afternoon,” Yuuri says. And then Viktor runs his hands down Yuuri’s chest to his hips and Yuuri has to. He.

Yuuri reaches up and behind them, to his right, to the nightstand. Viktor starts nibbling on his earlobe. He doesn’t have a shirt on. It’s not fair. 

“Mmmm,” Viktor hums, nosing behind Yuuri’s ear as though he’ll find something interesting there, “yes, condom, good idea.”

When Yuuri brings his hand back he has a fistful of wasabi seaweed crackers in it. He brings them up to his mouth in a nervous reflex. Viktor doesn’t notice right away, but Yuuri can tell when he does because he goes still all over, like Yuuri unplugged him and his power down noise is a quick inhale with a twitch from his crotch. Yuuri puts a cracker in his mouth and chews. Viktor’s breath fogs up Yuuri’s glasses.

“You keep food in your nightstand?” Viktor decides to ask.

“When I’m at work I watch romantic comedies and look up pictures of you and also ham,” Yuuri says. When Yuuri thinks of any two out of the trifecta of Viktor, arousal, and food he now has to think of the third. It’s a Pavlovian response. He can’t eat during movies anymore. When he has dinner with Viktor he has to pinch his thigh under the table, or the counter, or in the bathroom where Viktor won’t see.

Viktor smooths his hands down down until they’re pressed hard between Yuuri’s ass and the mattress. “…can I put them in your mouth?”

“What?”

“The crackers,” Viktor says. He starts to knead with his fingers. It is incredibly distracting.

“…how?”

“Well,” Viktor lays his head down, nose resting against Yuuri’s jaw, “with my mouth, preferably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [BONUS CONTENT I COULD NOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO PUT IN HERE:
> 
> me: at first he thinks yuuri’s going for the condoms BUT NO 
> 
> sonatine: he eventually accepts that their sex life is going to always include food  
> sonatine: often times actual snack breaks 
> 
> me: now i have an image of him with two ritz crackers over his nipples spread out on a bed like  
> me: SNACK TIME ]


	40. honor on the battlefield snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Honor on the Battlefield, because smitten kindergarten teacher Viktor and oblivious heartbreaker on a journey of learning to love himself high school teacher Yuuri are dear to my heart. I don't know whether to ask for something from before or after, though. How they started dating 8 months prior? When they get engaged in the future? Either way, students' (and parents', and fellow teachers') hearts will be broken, and Yuuri will find the behavior of his teenaged students bewildering.

Yuuko doesn’t bring up the mixer. Yuuri brings up the mixer. “I heard,” he starts in the middle of his session, taking off from a prolonged pause, “someone in the lobby. Talking.”

He decides on his own that he’s going to go, that even if he’s not as attracted to women as he is to men he might make a friend there. People might have expectations from him, but it doesn’t matter if he cannot live up to them. He can go home whenever he wants. He won’t ever see those people again. _He_ makes the decision, not Yuuko, who is happy he is willingly seeking out human interaction beyond his classes and his colleagues.

“You know,” Yuuko says, “my husband’s sister met her wife at one of those, so,” she winks, “don’t give up on meeting someone just yet.”

All Yuuri wants is to be normal. Feel happy. Meeting someone is beyond his scope of imagination. It isn’t on this semester’s syllabus. He has not studied for the test at _all_.

He goes to the mixer, even though he spends the entire day beforehand running his hands through his hair nervously, which makes his students tease him. They don’t like him very much, yet. When he asks them questions they mostly stare back at him instead of standing to respond. It’s disrespectful. Especially when they mock his sweaty, bedraggled appearance - “Mr. Katsuki, you look very handsome today!” - or when he mixes up important dates on the chalkboard - “Wow, Mr. Katsuki, you’re _sooo_ smart!!”.

When he finally leaves work he is tired, and embarrassed, and feeling like an empty bag of chips. He mutters “teenagers can be callous, but I know they mean well. I am a good teacher,” to himself on the way to the train. He wants to stay at his apartment. He goes to the mixer.

The mixer is fine. It’s a drinking gathering sponsored by the prefectural government. The purpose is to get young people married and having children. The birth rate in Japan is one of the lowest in the world. Yuuri might teach Japanese history, but he has a unit on population growth towards the end of the year when the class will reach more current events. He might even bring up the mixers, if one of the students doesn’t first. He won’t bring up that he’s been to one. Not that it’s bad. It’s fine.

He wanders away from the group after a couple hours, maybe a little more drunk than he meant to be. When he’s nervous he drinks to have something to do with his hands, to occupy his mouth. And then someone kept replacing his beers when they got empty. He finds himself in an izakaya, eventually, sitting between two other people at the bar. He doesn’t make much eye contact as he eats.

“Aha!” the man next to him exclaims in delight. He elbows Yuuri while gesturing about something to his friend, and Yuuri might be sobering up, but he still tips backwards into the man sitting on the other side of him. Luckily he doesn’t continue the chain of falling down or they’d all be on the floor and it would all be Yuuri’s fault. No one’s fault. At least, not Yuuri’s.

“Are you okay?” the man Yuuri’s fallen on asks. His accent is very standardized, but slightly off. When Yuuri looks up into the stranger’s blue eyes he realizes why: the stranger looks like a European billboard model.

Great.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri apologizes and bows his head and apologizes again. He’s almost done with his food and he’s really not that hungry anymore anyway. He could just pay. He could leave. He could crawl under a blanket on his couch and watch movies on his laptop until Monday morning.

“Wait,” the stranger says, “no, you’re fine. Here, let me,” he helps Yuuri back onto his stool with deft hands, almost like he’s used to picking men up and putting them exactly where he wants them. Yuuri’s throat goes dry. He would take a drink but his beer’s empty. He should go. “You’re all right?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says. He runs a hand through his hair, again. He needs to stop doing that.

The stranger angles his body towards Yuuri. “Good,” he says. “I’m Viktor. Oh,” his blue eyes widen when he notices Yuuri taking his wallet out. “Oh, are you leaving?” He seems inexplicably, irrationally sad about this.

Yuuri finds he is too. “No,” he says, “no.” He puts his wallet back. He scoots his stool a little closer to Viktor’s. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Yuuri.”


	41. yuuri + anxiety eating, pt 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Does post-retirement Yuuri have a second job as a celebrity cooking show judge? How many loving, near-pornographic shots are there of Yuuri putting food in his mouth? How #blessed is Victor? Yuuri would remain completely clueless about why he keeps getting asked back if it weren't for the supercut Yurio saved and accidentally sent to him.

You bet he does! He gets on Chopped and Iron Chef and is allowed on Kids Baking Competition as a celebrity guest even though I don’t think that’s a thing they do. The kids are asked to make candy pizza and Yuuri very unironically eats his entire slice. “I liked how you used peach rings as olives,” he says. “Maybe next time add real olives too, to go with the peach rings.”

The first thing Viktor does after he settles into his hotel suite when he’s traveling and Yuuri can’t come with him is put on one of Yuuri’s plain Costco t shirts (you know, the one Viktor stole from the bottom of the dirty laundry hamper). The second thing he does is turn the television to the Food Network so he can see his husband’s beautiful face. He rubs his hands up and down over ragged, well-worn 100% cotton. His husband’s beautiful throat bobs around a pickled strawberry covered in cucumber foam. He hums appreciatively in tandem with his beautiful famous gold medal husband and slides a little bit further down on the bed.

“I like the way you served the hamburger between two slices of cake,” Yuuri says on screen an hour later as the Chairman looks on fondly. “Because it’s the cake competition.” He smiles, and Viktor aches with how much he wants to wipe that little spot of relish mixed with fondant off his beautiful husband’s beautiful cheek.

 _i am dying_ , he texts nearly everyone in the contacts list of his personal phone.

 _YOU SHOULD BE SLEEPING_ , Yakov sends back.

 _We’re cheering you in Hasetsu! Hiroko sends love_ , Toshiya types.

 _FUCK YOU_ , Yurio responds, along with several choice inappropriate emojis.

 _no you aren’t_ , Yuuri sends later, while Viktor is enjoying a compilation video called YUURI KATSUKI EATS THINGS FOR FIVE MINUTES SEXY. It’s been posted by LiveJournal user numberoneyuurifan, who is a bit of a tool, but Viktor doesn’t care.

The next suggested video is titled KATSUKI YUURI VS FROSTING. Viktor gets the complimentary body lotion he took from the bathroom ready.


	42. frozen AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sobdasha asked: Yuuri, a young man whose anxiety manifests itself as the power to make a skating rink and literal ice skates anywhere he pleases. Viktor, a slightly-less-young man so love-starved that he'd go to a foreign country to marry some man he'd only just met for one night. Bonus points if someone, anyone, sings a song about how their pets are better than people. PLEASE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i feel less embarrassed that i didn’t get it when i remember i’ve only seen that movie once]

“Queen Mari of Hasetsu is throwing their first ball in years,” he tells Yakov as he throws clothes into an open trunk. The servants will sort out the actual packing later; he finds the motions calming, even if he doesn’t know how to do them properly. “Of course I have to attend.”

“Hasetsu doesn’t mean anything to Petersburg,” Yakov counters. “We don’t even trade with them.”

“Maybe we should start.”

They take Viktor’s late father’s fastest ship. The journey only takes a few days, but the weather is poor and Yakov spends most of the time refusing to leave the warmth of the state chambers. Viktor stubbornly spends most of his time out on the deck with Makkachin. His plain white blouse goes see through from the rain, but he doesn’t care. He’s going to a party; he’ll look plenty nice by then. Until then he waggles Makkachin’s paws in a silly dance and grins at all the deck hands and dignitaries who don’t quite stop to talk to him. “Makka Makka Makkachin! I am King Viktor’s best friend!” he singsongs.

One of his generals reminds him there would be chaos if he were to be swept overboard. He goes inside. He returns to the deck with enough rope to tie himself and Makkachin to the mast.

—

“Do we really have to open up the gates?” Yuuri whispers through the door.

Mari is _this close_ to using her royal powers to command a porter to unlock it. Hell, she’s _this close_ to kicking down the door herself. “Yes,” she says, “to end the period of calm after mother and father’s retirement. Our people want to celebrate with us.”

“I know, I mean, I just,” a gust of cool air tickles Mari’s ankles from under the door, “do they have to do it _here_?”

“Yuuri,” Mari says.

He opens the door. As expected, his room has turned into a rink again. Grand pillars of ice cover every window, obscuring the view to the outside world. “I can’t stop doing it,” Yuuri says. “Not since last night. I’ve tried…” He pulls his cloak around his shoulders, tight, and seemingly waits for his sister and liege’s reprimand.

Mari is seriously up to here with this kid. “It’s fine,” she huffs, standing as close as she knows Yuuri is comfortable with. “You don’t have to dance with anyone, and you know how much everyone in the town loves skating in the winter. I told them to wear shoes with good traction underneath their suits and gowns.”

A pair of skates might disappear from the mountain magically piled in front of Yuuri’s bed. Mari doesn’t dare look away to check.

“Besides,” she says, “The King of Petersburg is coming. You know, the one you had a crush on as a kid?”

—

The party is a rousing success, in part because Mari keeps the liquor far away from her father and brother, who are both hilarious drunks. She’ll let the family get smashed after, when it’s just them and the frosty ballroom, and no courtiers or foreign royalty are watching. In the meantime she has some fun and fends off some marriage proposals; nothing new. This is what she was raised for and she’s good at it.

Yuuri, as a younger son, was raised to be loved and to enjoy himself. So far he’s interpreted that to mean he was raised to hide himself away and to ice skate very guiltily in the hallway whenever he’s just escaped from visitors.

And even still, he’s very popular with their guests. Mari fends off a few marriage proposals for Yuuri’s hand, as well, from allies and enemies and townspeople who figured it didn’t hurt to ask. She doesn’t notice Yuuri’s missing from his corner of the room until she starts to unwind the wrap from her shoulders because it’s a little too warm with it on.

A little too warm hasn’t been a problem for the Katsuki Castle in over twenty years. The last time Mari hasn’t needed to wear a shawl in court was when Yuuri reluctantly agreed to go on a visiting tour of other nations with their mother. They’d gone to Sochi, near the Kingdom of Petersburg, and Yuuri had reportedly even enjoyed himself for a night.

Ever since he returned the castle has felt even colder than normal.

Until tonight.

—

Yuuri sits on the balcony with his back to the cool stone wall, watching snow fall lightly over the castle grounds and the town below. A platter of sandwiches sits next to him. When he finishes it, he promises to himself and to Mari silently, he’ll go back inside. He’ll talk to a stranger and he won’t freeze the stranger into a giant icicle.

“Excuse me,” someone says.

Yuuri jumps and almost freezes the newcomer into an icicle. Almost.

“Wow,” the stranger breathes, stepping forward and away from the overly bright doorway. The moonlight reveals him to be Crown Prince - no, _King_ Viktor of Petersburg. Yuuri has a portrait of him in his bedroom. _Behind_ the curtains of his four poster. He’s very dashing tonight, in very smart red and gold with pure white accents. He looks exactly like a King is supposed to look. “ _Wow_ ,” he repeats himself.

Yuuri fumbles to stand and bow. _Wow_ is right. He’s being very rude.

“Welcome to Hasetsu,” he says quickly, frost already forming at his fingertips. “I have to leave.”

He starts to slide away, but King Viktor reaches out for his hand and, more importantly, there is a poodle sitting in his path. Yuuri trips and falls, spinning on his own ice. The poodle barks and jumps on top of him, clearly very pleased at the game.

Once he is down Yuuri stays down. Just for a bit. Just to collect himself. The poodle licks all over his face. It’s not so bad.

“Ah, Makkachin, you have to ask first before kissing someone,” King Viktor chides. “I’m very sorry, Prince Yuuri.”

“It’s fine. I used to have a dog very similar to Makkachin. I kind of miss things like this, ah,” Yuuri says to the cloudy sky. King Viktor’s face appears, then, blocking the view. His teeth are very straight. Very shiny.

“Makkachin is-”

“- a very good boy.”

It stops snowing. Yuuri would be embarrassed if he wasn’t absolutely sure King Viktor had no idea what that meant.

“I’m Viktor,” King Viktor says, lying next to Yuuri and Makkachin on the ground.

“I know,” Yuuri replies, slipping off his gloves to run his bare fingers through Makkachin’s fur.


	43. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fireblazie asked: vampire au (no surprise :D :D), anything from yuuri's pov

Yuuri’s boyfriend is dead.

Yuuri’s boyfriend is a reanimated corpse monster.

Yuuri’s boyfriend is allergic to the sun.

Yuuri’s boyfriend takes a thousand selfies of himself - when he’s dressing, when he’s in town, when he sees a cute duck by the water - because he doesn’t have a proper reflection and also because he’s vain.

Yuuri’s boyfriend is a vampire. And Yuuri has a class reunion on Saturday.

“Are you going to ask Viktor to go with you?” Yuuko asks him Wednesday afternoon when Yuuri wanders out of the library in need of a little light. The shop front is empty besides them; Mari is leading a training exercise in the basement. Even the triplets were allowed down to watch. Even Viktor, who must be giving infuriatingly accurate pointers to the guild even now.

“Who said I was going to go?” Yuuri leans back in his booth and watches Yuuko work. She’s chopping up melons into little cubes with a short wooden knife. Yuuri’s seen her turn bodies to dust with that knife. He doesn’t think it should be involved in food preparation. He’s not about to tell her that. “I barely talked to my classmates. They won’t even remember me.”

“About half of them asked my permission to date you, did you ever know that?”

Yuuri stares at Yuuko. He knows his mouth is half open and his nose is crinkled in confusion. She doesn’t even pause from her chopping when she laughs.

“Ah, yes, I forgot. You’re Yuuri. You never knew.”

“Even so,” Yuuri says torn between calling her a liar and smacking himself for calling Yuuko a liar, “why would Viktor even care about something like that? It would be too boring for him.”

“Nothing’s too boring for Viktor,” Yuuko scoffs, “especially nothing about you.”

Even so.

Viktor comes tumbling out of the back room just then, unfairly put together even though three little girls have his legs and neck in choke holds. “I told you it was pointless,” he gasps, smiling. His face is still pale, because he is dead. There isn’t extra blood to make his cheeks go purple from the lack of circulation. He’s dead. “I don’t have to breathe!”

“Sometimes you do!” Rosary shouts from the floor, where she looks as though she’s weighing the odds of turning into a nightmare monster if she bites Viktor on the leg.

“It’s relaxing,” Viktor shrugs, as though that makes sense.

Yuuri’s boyfriend is a monster.

Yuuri’s boyfriend is _really obvious about it_.

And Yuuri’s going to take him to his class reunion on Saturday. Damn.


	44. border guard yuuri + frequent flyer viktor, pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: HAVE JUST READ BORDER GUARD!YUURI & FREQUENT FLYER VICTOR AND I AM NOT OK HOW DARE U OMG I WANT TO TEAR OFF MY FACE WITH MY HANDS *whispers pls do more i will give u free food*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Anon don’t do that! You need that!
> 
> 2) Free food you say *oh no my weakness* okay well in that case:

Yuuri’s nickname at work is ‘Cocaine Katsuki’ because he finds so much cocaine on his shifts. Also heroin. Also pornography. Also fruit. And exotic animals. If it’s on the prohibited/restricted list Yuuri’s found more of it than any of his other colleagues and he’s pretty sure it’s not because he’s trying harder. It’s not as though he doesn’t try _at all_ , but. Yuuri does not particularly try.

(’Cocaine Katsuki’ is only one of Yuuri’s work nicknames. His more famous one is ‘Fuck me Katsuki’ though by unanimous decision he is not allowed to know about it.)

When he learns one evening that Viktor only barely didn’t smuggle lemurs into the country just to get his attention Yuuri can’t look him in the eyes for the rest of their meal.

“That’s an odd one you’ve found for yourself, Katsuki,” the proprietor of Yuuri’s third favorite restaurant to cry in says from a table over as he watches a baseball game on an ancient television.

“Yes,” Viktor responds back in his Japanese for Businessmen. “Thank you very much.”

Yuuri only drops his forehead onto the table because he knows how clean they keep the tabletops here. It’s why it’s one of his favorites.

(“I thought if I could surprise you, maybe…” Viktor says later that night.

“Please never get yourself banned from the country,” Yuuri says to his ceiling. “I would miss you.”

“In _that_ case…,” Viktor says. He never finishes his sentence.)

The next time Viktor comes through Passport Control he’s bearing a serene expression no one who just took a nine and a half hour redeye should be able to manage. He looks freshly pressed and ready to stroll down the nearest runway. Yuuri starts to wonder if he changed his clothes in the first class bathroom, but that leads to Yuuri thinking about Viktor naked, and then Viktor’s standing in front of him and Yuuri is going to get fired. One of these days.

(He jabs his thigh with the blunt end of a ballpoint pen and thinks unsexual thoughts. Homeless puppies. Viktor leaving him for someone thinner. Calbee discontinuing his favorite snacks. It works.)

“How long will you be staying in Japan?” Yuuri asks. It’s written on the form. It’s on Yuuri’s phone because Viktor gave Yuuri access to both his personal and business calendars. But if Yuuri asks that means Viktor stays in his lane that much longer and it’s well-established that Yuuri is weak.

“Five days this time,” Viktor says. “Is everything all right, officer?”

They’ve talked about how they’re going to approach their relationship when Yuuri’s on the job. Strictly speaking, Viktor probably should be going through someone else’s lane. Yuuri hasn’t asked him to yet, but Viktor’s preferred route of pretending they don’t recognize each other at all might push Yuuri there. He’s been getting looks in the break room. He’s been having to calm himself down in the men’s room.

Yuuri looks down at Viktor’s form to give himself time to breathe.

In the last box, next to _Intended Address in Japan_ Viktor has written Yuuri’s address. He’s written Yuuri’s phone number. He put a heart next to it.

Yuuri grabs Viktor’s hand and slams it onto the scanner himself.


	45. parks & rec AU snippet, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanabloemen asked: viktuuri 9) things you said when I was crying~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the same universe as [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9610982)

This is the right decision.

“Can you, oh,” Viktor ushers Yuuri in to his office and realizes the door should be closed for this at the same time. He pushes gently down onto Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri should be sitting, for this. Viktor wants him to be comfortable. He goes back and shuts the door himself. There’s nothing do be done about the glass, but at least no one will be able to listen in.

(Yakov had Viktor’s office soundproofed after the Great Brainstorming Session of ‘13.)

He’s still gripping the handle when Yuuri says, even-toned and contemplative, “we should end this.”

And it’s funny.

This is what Viktor called him in here for.

Viktor had a speech prepared.

A bullet point list of logical reasons.

He wrote it down on ten note cards.

He memorized the note cards and burned them after, because the whole point of this is he can’t have evidence.

It’s funny.

Viktor’s begun to cry and it seems he can’t figure out how to stop.

“Yes,” he says. “I don’t want to.”

“I want you to,” Yuuri says. Viktor looks at him then because there’s necessary and there’s what Viktor knows he needs to do and then there is this, “because I recently moved to this city, and I’m really starting to love it, and there’s an election coming soon, and there’s somebody I want to vote for. And I can’t if he doesn’t run.”

Yuuri has a sticker on his left lapel. It should be on his right, because it’s customary to shake hands with one’s right hand. The eyes naturally drift to the right shoulder. Yuuri’s sticker reads VOTE VIKTOR.

It’s over and it’s begun in the same moment. “I’m so happy for you,” Yuuri says, standing.

“Yes,” Viktor says.


	46. snuggles ate some heroin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Number 24 please!
> 
> 24) things you said with clenched fists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the longer i stay in a fandom, the more weird/specific my AUs become.
> 
> ([snuggles ate some heroin](http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/05/16/528622327/pet-rat-in-vancouver-overdoses-on-heroin-saved-by-narcan))

Wednesday. Viktor gets released on a Wednesday.

Yuuri knows because Yuuko tells him. After the triplets were born she retired from active competition, but she still keeps up with the figure skating world through her friends. Yuuri is friends with someone who has friends in the figure skating world. It’s not exactly the same as skating on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov, but that was always only going to be a dream.

Now Yuuri works for a hospital group headquartered in Osaka. He mostly reports to clinics in small towns in Saga Prefecture, though, which means he gets to live at his family’s onsen a little over half of the year. It’s not a terrible life. During the weekends he helps Mari with the chores they no longer want their aging father and mother to have to do. He spends a lot of time on the train during the week. He enjoys the quiet.

Makkachin does as well.

“Oh,” Yuuri says when Yuuko tells him over the phone. Makkachin flops her tail lazily and it hits Yuuri’s calves. “Right.”

He’s careful not to say Viktor’s name. Makkachin always perks up at Viktor’s name and Yuuri hates disappointing her. She’s been with Yuuri for the last five months and she’s only stopped whining at the posters on Yuuri’s bedroom walls for the last five weeks. Yuuri thinks she might have learned to only do it when Yuuri isn’t home. She’s very smart, like that.

“Do you think he’ll come back? For Makkachin?” Yuuko asks as though Yuuri would know. He’s only met Viktor Nikiforov the once, and that wasn’t a particularly good time for either of them.

Yuuri was crying in front of an ice machine in a hotel hallway.

Viktor was crying in front of his unconscious poodle in the sitting area of his hotel room, which happened to be across from the ice machines.

At the time Yuuri didn’t think world-class athletes could have heroin addictions. The more you know.

“He might, I don’t,” he sighs, “I’ve got to go. Makka needs her brushing before the first wave of dinner service.”

He hangs up and doesn’t think about Wednesday.

Thursday.

“There’s a foreigner here to see you,” Yuuri’s father tells him on Thursday after he comes home from walking Makkachin after work. Yuuri has a shopping bag under his arm and his mask still up over his face. Makkachin jumps up like a much younger, smaller dog than she actually is, until she catches some distant scent and tugs the leash right out of Yuuri’s left hand. It’s something Vicchan used to do, all of it, except when Vicchan did it it used to be to Mari, because he always came running for-

Oh.

Viktor Nikiforov isn’t crying this time, but everything about him feels unsettled even though he looks as perfect as he’s always been in photographs. (The nice ones Yuuri buys, bought, not the ones from the internet and after.) “I had a difficult time tracking you down,” he says to the floor and to Makkachin who barreled him into it, and maybe even to Yuuri and isn’t that absurd.

Yuuri wants to ask if Viktor is supposed to be here. He doesn’t.

He wants to ask if Viktor’s supposed to be in Russia even more. He doesn’t.

Makkachin is more wiggle than dog right now, huffing like mad and only breathing when she realizes she has no more air left to bark. She does pause, though, once she’s covered Viktor Nikiforov, who will always be a living legend to Yuuri, in a healthy layer of slobber. She looks back at Yuuri as if to say, he’s back! We waited for so long and he’s back!

“Is that so,” Yuuri says, pulling his mask down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wonders how much Narcan he has left in his medical bag and whether he should prepare a human dose or a canine one or if he should offer Viktor some tea. He should offer Viktor some tea.

Before he can Makkachin dashes over to him. She runs around and between his legs, visibly happier than he’s ever seen her. He’s back! He’s back! Why aren’t you jumping on him too he’s back!

Yuuri has always had complicated feelings about jumping on Viktor Nikiforov. Now might be the worst time of any. Yuuri is not going to jump on Viktor. He’s not going to tell anyone he’s here. He’s not going to betray that trust Viktor put in him, a little drunk, eyes red, mouth a jagged line of worry, in that hotel hallway, between the ice machine and the presidential suite. He’s just going to ask about the tea, really, he is.

“Would you like to stay?” he asks instead.

Viktor rolls over to look at him. He buries his face in Makkachin’s fur, fists clenched tight, before he answers. “Yes,” he says. “Yes.”


	47. quidditch AU snippet, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 56 victuuri, AU? (kind of hoping it is in fact a quidditch AU but I'm always down for surprises...)
> 
> 56) things you said in the spur of the moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [from this quidditch AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9148909)

Yuuri leans back against the handle of his Yajirushi and pulls his mirror out of a pocket deep in his practice robes. He smiles up at the surface after he unlocks it. Above him, Viktor leans down over his own broom and allows his eyes to trace the edges of Yuuri’s lips. He’ll have to leave soon - he’s not allowed to watch the Japan National Team practice even if everyone have agreed he and Yuuri can practice together to their heart’s content - and he wants to drink in every drop of the sight of Yuuri splayed out midair, happy.

“The triplets sure are a handful,” Yuuri laughs at something Viktor can’t see. “I’m glad I don’t have any children right now.”

 _Protego_ , Viktor attempts to cast on his heart. _Protego, protego, protego_. He isn’t fast enough. While his mind is busy his mouth makes it all worse. “Yes,” he says, blinking, “yes, me too.”

He has his own practice then, half a world away, and he’s grateful no one ever looks graceful or put together after taking a portkey. Mila pats him on the back when he bends double to retch. He heaves, but he’s empty already.

“Rough journey, huh?” she asks. “Don’t let Yuri see you. He’s been muttering about you and Japan again.”

Viktor waves her off.


	48. minami's thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rainywithachanceofstars asked: please tell me more about adorable but also thirsty af Minami who doesn't know if he wants to watch Victor and Yuuri or be them

Kenjiro has memorized every publicly available fact about his hero and future husband, Katsuki Yuuri. He has memorized some private ones, as well, because he spent at least one week of his spring vacation every year for the past five visiting Hasetsu to soak up the places that made his personal champion who he is. He is the president of the Katsuki Yuuri fan club. He has more Yuuri posters than _anybody_ , and that includes that Russian troll numberoneyuurifan (who _isn’t_ ). 

Kenjiro has stolen more than two but less than ten posters of Yuuri from public places.

Kenjiro does not let the way Yuuri and Viktor look at each other and skate together and get matching wedding rings they kiss on international television at each other get him down. Kenjiro knows that means it’s possible! To capture your hero’s heart and marry him once you graduate university!! He can’t wait until he can skate on the same ice as Yuuri again, preferably at the Grand Prix Final.

Kenjiro dedicates every one of his international medals to Yuuri in press conferences that are very sincere but simultaneously very embarrassing for one Katsuki Yuuri.

Kenjiro cries when Yuuri retires. _Sobs_.

Kenjiro also cries when Yuuri gets married, which probably happens before that but still. _Sobs_. Is so happy for him, because Viktor Nikiforov makes Yuuri happy and Yuuri caught him and Kenjiro can relate to that with every molecule in his small, over-excitable body.

Besides, Kenjiro can wait.

Kenjiro can wait, and do his best, and skate his heart, and then someday Yuuri will look at him again with approval in his eyes.


	49. edit sober snippet, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Laughing and dying bc am sort of picturing the Minami remix to the fic about being caught writing Yuuri rpf, except it's Yuri P making this discovery, like. Oh geez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like a future fic of [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9476303)

There’s a rhythmic thumping coming from the other side of the wall behind Yuri’s head. The sound is interspersed with the horrendous typhoon wailing of Georgi on a crying jag. Yuri thinks about kicking the wall violently or screaming for Georgi to stop, but finds he is too tired and sated to do much more than care. His limbs feel heavy. Aside from the grating irritation rolling across the back of his mind he is smug and warm and content.

Dye Job is whistling to himself in the bathroom.

Fuck yeah Yuri is smug.

Folding his arms behind his head, Yuri sinks back against a pile of sweaty, deformed pillows. He does his best to ignore the thumping and sobbing behind him, and the total silence coming from Viktor’s room on the other side of the wall across from the bed. They must be out still, Viktor and the pig. Maybe they’re celebrating Chulanont’s gold. Maybe they’re strip drinking in public again like the embarrassing idiots they are. Yuri doesn’t care.

(Yuri cares.)

And maybe he can ignore Georgi’s presence, and maybe he can ignore Yuuri’s absence, but Yuri can’t ignore the buzzing right underneath his head. He groans and swears as he rifles through the soiled bedsheets and comes up with a bedazzled blue phone. Tacky. Who in their right mind would design a phone case based off of the pig’s 2014 free skate costume when years 2015 through 2017 exist? Or the glistening white number from his seminal 2018 short program? It’s criminal. Dye Job Minami is an idiot as well as a barely-passable skater.

“Someone’s texting you,” he shouts in the direction of the bathroom.

Dye Job’s response is to turn the shower on and whistle louder. Yuri rolls his eyes and idly swipes the screen on Dye Job’s phone. The lock screen pops up - a photo of Dye Job standing too close to the pig at the last All-Japan Figure Skating Championships - and with it pops the preview of an automatically-generated email.

**Tumblr  
Anonymous asked a question**

Yuri isn’t curious.

(He is.)

Yuri shouldn’t.

(He does.)

Dye Job’s password isn’t very difficult to guess. It’s not very inventive, either. Yuri used it when he was ten. Amateur.

He thumbs past English vocabulary apps, guidebooks, useless default trash and twenty different versions of Bejeweled before he finds the app he’s looking for. When he finally gets the inbox to load the newest message is there at the top, along with seven or eight more just like it.

 **woooow unff kenjiro is sooo hot in your last one!!!** , the first one reads. **uwu**

“Oowooo,” Yuri breathes. Pedestrian. Even Dye Job’s fans are amateurs. But the more Yuri scrolls the more it sinks in that this isn’t Dye Job’s official, monitored account. This isn’t his personal account either, exactly, like the kind Yuri uses to show pictures of cats to his grandfather. This is the third kind of account. This is an account no one is supposed to know about. Yuri also has this kind of account. Several. And when he searches through the settings he realizes it’s all so much worse than he thought it could ever be.

 **katsukinokoibito** , reads the drop down menu under the main account page. Below it is a very familiar icon of the pig licking his lips from his Eros program wearing a poorly Photoshopped flower crown, surrounded by sparkles. **~*~*~YUU/KEN~*~*~** , the blog title reads.

Yuri’s screams drown out Georgi’s caterwauling, and he heaves himself off the bed fast enough and high enough to land a quadruple Salchow on the way down if he so felt like it. He races into the bathroom and punches open the shower door.

“ _You,_ ” he hisses in the way cats hiss when they are held up to six megaphones, “ _you piece of **shit** , Minami_.”

Minami Kenjiro cocks his head and continues soaping up his abs, paying particular attention to the round, bite-shaped bruises veering out towards his hip bones. He’s got the innocent act down, Yuri will give him that. Yuri thrusts Minami’s phone directly at his face. Minami should be thankful he doesn’t throw it.

“Oh,” Minami says, “how did you get that unlocked?”

Yuri screams again.

“Huh?”

“ ** _katsukinokoibito_**?!” Yuri rages.

“Oh,” Minami laughs. “My old publicist found out I registered on some of Yuuri’s fan forums with my official account and got really mad. She made me delete everything! I had 56K hits on _Dreams of Lohengrin_! So I made that one when I was, oh,” he runs a hand through his hair, “sixteen? Fifteen?” He shrugs and smiles as though Yuri is expected to be okay with any of that. “I only picked it because numberoneyuurifan was already taken.”

Because Yuri has learned restraint he mutters, “yeah, by his fucking _number one fan_ ” in Russian, which he is pretty sure Kenjiro Bitchface Dye Job Trash Ship Minami doesn’t speak.

“…and katsu_do_me kept getting banned.”

This time Yuri throws his entire body at Minami. They quickly outpace Georgi in both thumps and frustrated groaning. The phone lies forgotten at their feet.

(Until Kenjiro picks it up and begins quoting himself, during.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, that was 858 words of Yurio finding Minami’s self-insert Yuuri RPF fic account and flipping out about it post/pre hatefucking. This is what I did today instead of working on the fic I’m trying to finish. Thanks to @dadvans for Minami’s username.


	50. actually their lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy father’s day to @dadvans, who at one point typed the words:
> 
> WRITE ME A DONUT AU
> 
> DONUT AU!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK

A wide paved path leads up to the school. Twenty-three old oaks line the way with pomp and austerity. The charred and otherwise empty space where the twenty-fourth once stood reminds students, also with pomp and austerity, not to step even a little bit out of line. Freshman Yuuri Katsuki does not need the reminder, frankly. As a scholarship student at a prestigious boarding school he knows he’s never going to be more than an outsider.

As the only human at a prestigious boarding school, he knows the best he can hope for is to be an outsider. What he expects is to spend four years of misery surrounded by pinnacles.

What he gets is about four months of self-induced misery surrounded by pinnacles. Math was never his strong point.

“I don’t understand,” Yuuri ventures. He spent so much of his childhood in his parents’ inn practicing his English. All he wanted back then was to join the wider world. To prove himself!

“You are the sprinkles of my heart,” a frosted student whose name he doesn’t know and is sure he’s never known repeats herself.

Now that can’t be right.

Yuuri wonders if there’s a polite way to pull out a Japanese-English dictionary at a time like this. “My heart,” he sounds out softly to himself. He thought he knew what that meant. He thought he was pretty good at English, actually, he thought that was why he was chosen to attend Saint Taft’s Academy for Artisanal Youths in the first place. STAAY got to show how gracious it was, and the remaining humans in the former nation of Japan got a future ambassador.

What an ambassador.

His people wanted a representative and what they got was Yuuri, a hole of anxiety who can’t talk to another student without mangling the language. It sounds like the frosted is confessing her feelings to him. A pinnacle! With feelings for Yuuri! She probably asked him to meet her in the cherry blossom grove behind the school to tell him to watch his back, or to pass along a message for Phichit.

She’s so embarrassed for him she’s blushing.

“Phichit is in the fencing hall right now,” Yuuri says helpfully. Then he leaves.

Behind him, the frosted starts to cry. Her friends descend on her in a whirl of waxed paper and artificial strawberry highlights.

Yuuri makes his way to the library and doesn’t look back. He hates it when other people see him cry. After wasting so much of the frosted’s time, the most he can do for her is not watch as she weeps openly at the thought of missing Phichit’s fencing practice.

“Katsuki!”

“Looking fryer fresh, Katsuki!”

“ _Your ass is delectable!_ ”

Yuuri tries to ignore the shouts of the other students as a general rule, but when they try to heckle him in his native language it’s difficult to pretend he hasn’t heard. None of the other students are very good at Japanese; they always get the idioms wrong.

“Yuuri!”

Phichit’s familiar voice signals his presence and gives Yuuri something other than his failures or his otherness to focus on.

“Done with fencing already, Phichit?” Yuuri asks.

To his left he sees his roommate Phichit come speeding along. Phichit is a pinnacle, like every other student and teacher and most of the population of the Earth, but he’s friendly to Yuuri. He’s new money, originally from Thailand, the youngest of a half dozen and the only filled. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at understanding Yuuri’s various anxieties. Or maybe that’s just how Phichit is. He races up the path from the fencing hall and only stops when he’s right in front of Yuuri.

“You have to see this,” Phichit says, brandishing his phone. “Viktor just won the regional tournament and he dedicated his victory to you!”

As a reflex Yuuri slaps the phone away. Because he is used to Yuuri and is also a fantastic friend, Phichit moves out of reach before Yuuri actually can.

“Behave yourself, my son!” Phichit demands. “Or else I’ll find all your Viktor clippings and have them incinerated.”

Yuuri squints at Phichit to gauge his sincerity. Phichit’s face, such as it is, gives nothing away. “…fine.”

They go back to the privacy of their dorm to watch the recording on Phichit’s phone. Yuuri surreptitiously hides a few of his favorite yearbooks and newspaper clippings underneath his bed while Phichit gets settled in on a chair. He thinks he hears Phichit mutter something about ‘all covered in Yuuri’s icing anyway’ and ‘not wanting to touch it’. Before he can explain that he finds the articles in the student newspaper _very informative_ and also _good English practice_ , Phichit shoves a phone in his face.

He presses play.

“That performance was masterful, Mr. Nikiforov,” a sports reporter is saying off camera, “you’ve just beaten your own world record! How do you feel?”

Viktor’s smiles, such as they are, are never very wide. They’re never very substantial, more air than anything. It usually comes off as mysterious. Coy. The public can never get enough of it. Even Yuuri has spent hours appreciating it.

The smile Viktor sends the camera after the reporter’s question, by comparison, is twenty meals followed by fifty desserts. It’s the entire length of the country twice over. It's… happy. “Wonderful,” Viktor says. “Inspired!”

“O-oh?” the reporter stutters, clearly caught off guard.

“Yes,” Viktor replies. Yuuri thought he found Viktor’s polite aloofness… very informative. Viktor’s blissed out enthusiasm is the most informative thing Yuuri’s ever watched in his entire short pathetic human life. “And I owe it all to the person who showed me how much I was missing. Who taught me the value of life and love and thick thighs.” Viktor’s face, such as it is, sobers as he looks directly into the camera.

At this moment, Yuuri successfully launches the phone across the room. It hits the opposite wall with a thump that mirrors the racing of Yuuri’s own heart. “He can’t,” Yuuri says, “what.”

“That had to be about you,” Phichit argues. “You’re the only one around here with legs.”

And so he is. But does it actually make sense for Viktor Nikiforov to know who Yuuri is? Viktor Nikiforov? Dashing senior, Viktor Nikiforov? Captain of the fencing team, heir to Nikiforov Industries, most handsome filled in the entire school, Viktor Nikiforov? He’s half French. Yuuri’s all gone.

“That is factually accurate,” Yuuri acquiesces grudgingly. “I _am_ the only one around here with legs. But he was probably speaking metaphorically.”

Phichit disagrees. Yuuri pretends to fall asleep to avoid any further lines of questioning he doesn’t like. It’s not very fair to use this tactic on Phichit, who is Yuuri’s best and only friend among the pinnacles, but Yuuri’s heart can only take so much. It’s not his fault STAAY doesn’t teach anything about human biology so no one knows he’s faking when he closes his eyes in the middle of a conversation and refuses to respond.

But this is not the end of it.

The next morning a note shows up in Yuuri’s locker. _I was speaking very literally_ , it reads. _Meet me in the cherry blossom grove after school_. This is followed by six hearts and a piping nozzle emoji.

Yuuri spends the entire day pretending to be very tired. He doesn’t know why the teachers let him get away with it, even if they do have a very low opinion of him. He doesn’t know why the other students don’t take the opportunity to play pranks on him, but the worst thing that happens is when another student fills in his test questions for him in history class and gets a couple answers wrong.

At the end of the day Yuuri treads out to the cherry blossom grove against his better judgment. Viktor is already there when he arrives. Loose pink petals drift lazily down to the ground behind him. It’s a beautiful scene. Yuuri has an impulse to throw it, like the phone, away from his person as far as it will go. He feels the impossibility keenly.

“Ah, Yuuri,” Viktor says before Yuuri can run away, “wonderful.”

He then launches into a speech about their two kinds, about how Viktor wishes he were a man if being a man meant he could be closer to Yuuri, could really understand him. It’s a very good speech. Viktor’s also the captain of the debate team. The only problem is it makes no sense.

“But,” Yuuri says when Viktor pauses for dramatic emphasis, “but how could you ever say that!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says lowly, gliding closer until he’s positioned right next to Yuuri’s face, “without you I am a sentient donut sitting on a hoverboard. With you I can do anything.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Yuuri gasps. _That word_. That word is from the Before times. Before the world began anew in Canton, before pinnacles rose to their current place at the top of the evolutionary hierarchy. Yuuri’s heard other humans use that word, but never a pinnacle. Never someone like Viktor, who is flaky, delicate perfection filled with the kind of cream Yuuri’s only ever dreamt about. “Don’t say that,” Yuuri repeats. “No.”

Bringing up a shaky hand, Yuuri lightly shoves at Viktor’s hoverboard. He doesn’t dare throw Viktor across the grove, but he can’t allow anyone to say those sorts of things about Viktor. Not even Viktor.

“That’s why I love you,” Viktor croons. He’s smiling, in a sense, the way he had at the press conference. Substantial but soft. Through the screen of Phichit’s phone it had been overwhelming. In person, it’s too much.

Yuuri kisses Viktor Nikiforov.

Then he flings his own body out of the grove.

—

When Yuuri walks into the library with rose-scented cream smeared across his lower lip and chin, a least twenty metaphoric hearts break in tortured teenage silence.

When he absentmindedly brushes it away with his fingers, and then licks his fingers, at least thirty hoverboards must later be wiped down with a wet cloth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i was kind of disappointed the first time i read the wiki for hatoful boyfriend and realized there was a plot to go along with the whole dating pigeons thing. and what a plot it was! i can’t remember why i decided to base this on the pigeon dating sim. unlike the makers of hatoful boyfriend, i see no need to justify myself.
> 
> (but i would like to reiterate that while pinnacles might be able to telepathically project their voices, none of them have legs. they all move around on devices that are a combination roomba/hoverboard.)
> 
> (sometimes there is a hamster ball on the hoveroomba. how else would the swim team work??)
> 
> (the pinnacle thing is a joke about the food pyramid)
> 
> (i don’t know how i wrote so much of this)
> 
> (viktor is a cronut)


	51. numberoneyuurifan and THEREALnumberoneyuurifan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lamperouge-1 asked: top 5 exchanges between numberoneyuurifan and THEREALnumberoneyuurifan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> AFTER I WHINED AT ZIKE AND [SHE DID HER OWN VERSION](http://cutthroatpixie.tumblr.com/post/157528560604/top-5-exchanges-between-numberoneyuurifan-and) MY MIND WAS LIKE OKAY THIS PROMPT HAS BEEN FILLED. Just, you know, not by me.

\- that time brand new forum/LJ/tumblr/twitter/ao3/all the websites user THEREALnumberoneyuurifan writes a short (but somehow still much too long??) viktor/yuuri fic for yuletide, right after the sochi gpf. in it THEREALnumberoneyuurifan alleges viktor nikiforov falls completely in love with japan’s ace skater katsuki yuuri at the gpf banquet and then stays up all night looking at youtube videos of yuuri’s skating and also his weird commericals. the viktor fandom doesn’t even pay attention to it. the yuuri fandom thinks it’s weird, but sweet. all except _one_ member of the yuuri fandom. numberoneyuurifan gets past maybe a paragraph before commenting “this is shit”. and a brand new rivalry is born.

\- that time numberoneyuurifan posts a photoset of pictures of yuuri, sweaty, rinkside, with viktor deliberately cut out of them. like, even if you weren’t there, which numberoneyuurifan wasn’t these are just super secret source paparazzi pics, you would know viktor was originally standing there and numberoneyuurifan cut him out. there’s the edge of a fancy trench coat, an expensive cuff, a hand with an absurdly glinting ring, old man hair. there’s always just the trace of something to remind the viewer that viktor was there (but he shouldn’t have been so now he’s not anymore). THEREALnumberoneyuurifan responds by running the cropped pictures through a dozen filters and adding hearts and sparkles and captioning all of them with THIS IS HOW VIKTOR SEES THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE ISN’T HE BEAUTIFUL!!! the worst part is how he puts little cartoon poodles in the corners and reminds everyone katsuki yuuri is a dog person.

\- **numberoneyuurifan** said: SUK IT I WON THE CONTEST  
 **THEREALnumberoneyuurifan** said: oh i’m going to sukk something ; )  
 **numberoneyuurifan** said: FUKC YOU FUCK YOU FUCK Y _**I**_ WON YOU CAN’T  
 **THEREALnumberoneyuurifan** said: (*´ ♡ `*)  
 **katsukisprincess71** said: lol are u two flirting?????  
 **THEREALnumberoneyuurifan** said: this is THEREALnumberoneyuurifan’s husband. he has been banned from the internet for the rest of the weekend. i apologize on his behalf. 

\- that one time THEREALnumberoneyuurifan writes a manifesto on the pure and true and deeply erotic love between katsuki yuuri and viktor nikiforov and numberoneyuurifan responds ‘this’. THEREALnumberoneyuurifan responds two days later with a water wave emoji and sixteen hug emojis. numberoneyuurifan links him to a compilation video of every time viktor nikiforov ever fell down in an international competition (including that time during his run for his fourth set of gold medals when he looked really surprised by it).

\- that one time katsukisuxx trolled the official yuuri forums and twitter with a bunch of shit about yuuri sucking, _he shuldnt ever skate again wut a failure_ , and numberoneyuurifan and THEREALnumberoneyuurifan join forces to **d i s m a n t l e** this other person over the course of 32 fantastic hours in which neither of them must sleep because they never go longer than 20 minutes without posting. somehow katsuki1 bans both of them from the internet???? the buzzfeed articles about it are inconclusive, but the rest of the yuuri fandom knows something they aren’t sharing.

(+yuurisnumberonedogfan has the last word of the entire business, when he posts a slightly blurry vine of viktor nikiforov’s very famous dog makkachin who  smiles and whuffles and wiggles in front of an open rink gate while behind him an out of focus figure, who appears to be katsuki yuuri in his practice clothes, speeds by and does a - fiercely debated in the figure skating fandom for like three months afterwards - quad axel like it’s nothing. whoever is recording sighs something that sounds like the russian word _vkusno_ in a voice that sounds suspiciously like viktor nikiforov’s. but that would be crazy.)


	52. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: garlic bread anon again! slightly less sleep deprived in comparison to last time, but it's still 2am so forgive the incoherence. i'm wondering - do you take writing requests? if not, feel free to ignore this, but if so, i would like to huMBLY REQUEST THE SCENE WITH SAD SUICIDAL VAMPIRE!VIKTOR + PROTECTIVE SISTER MARI THREATENING TO KILL HIM. AND/OR ANY OF THEIR INTERACTIONS. I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THIS AND I HATE HOW U HAVE PUT THESE IDEAS INTO MY HEAD BUT THEY ARE HERE TO STAY NOW. SAVE ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always take requests! with the caveat that it very frequently takes me a long time to get the right mix of energy and inspiration and free time to get to them (see: the 16 prompts from multiple years ago i found while scrolling through my inbox today WHOOPS SORRY OSCAR). second caveat is that if i don’t like a prompt i might give a ‘this is not my jam sorry’ answer. but if you can handle either of those things then prompt away.

Mari helps a thousand year old vampire move in two doors down the hall from her little brother. She carries up box after box of cookware and books and clothes. She helps him haul an antique vanity up four flights of stairs. She even moves his mattress - by herself, even. She doesn’t let him help and she makes him watch. If he associates his bed with her and the burnished silver axe she wears holstered at her lower back and impressive feats of strength then, well, good. Maybe it’ll save her little brother some heartbreak later.

“Is that it?” she asks once the pile of boxes in front of the building diminishes down to nothing.

He hums, enigmatic behind his wide-brimmed hat draped in gauze. He has to wear them out in the sun. They are enough, out in the sun, to save him from wasting to dust. “Nearly,” he says. “Thank you, Mari.”

“I don’t need your thanks, vampire,” she says. She doesn’t.

He shrugs. “Would you like to wait for Yuuri here?”

“No,” she says. She follows him back upstairs anyway.

The vampire has to be reminded how this is going to work. If no one else is going to ensure he understands, then it falls to Mari. When they get inside she sits backwards on one of the chairs that came in a set with his kitchen table. He hangs his hat and scarf on a hook by the door. She picks at her nails with one of her silver pocket knives. She didn’t take off her shoes.

“Why do you even need any of this,” she waves at the boxes with the hand holding the knife. “You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. And the mirror-”

“I keep meaning to replace that with something that’s not silver-backed.” He smiles at her blandly. “It’s nice to have things even if you don’t need them. _Because_ you don’t need them. Don’t you think?”

This has already been too indirect for Mari’s tastes. She gets her stake to the heart of it. “Look,” she says, flicking her knife shut, “let me be very clear. Yuuri is the _only one_ giving you a chance. None of the rest of us are.”

The vampire’s smile, if possible, grows even more bland.

“And if you fuck it up - _when_ you fuck it up - I will be there, and I will kill you. The only reason I haven’t _already_ killed you,” she flicks her knife open again, “is because Yuuri asked me not to. And when you fuck up, even if he asks me not to again, too bad. I can live with him unhappy at me if he’s alive to be that way.”

The vampire’s smile is gone now. He’s absently holding a red plastic colander he picked up from one of the boxes, looking at her with inhuman contemplation. It forces a wary rush of adrenaline up her spine. She holds still, thinks about her training and the vials of holy water she keeps in her pockets.

“Would you?” he asks.

“What?”

“Would you kill me?” he repeats himself.

And so help her, but Mari knows in a sudden rush of the instincts that have made her famous that he’s asking. He’s not mocking her, he’s not testing her. He’s _begging_ her. It’s not. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. This isn’t how her interactions with fucking undead corpsemonsters are supposed to go, colanders and vanities and her brother aside.

“What the fuck,” she asks, as polite as she is able.

“Would you kill me?” he says again, like he means it, beseeching.

His eyes, like the rest of him, are a thousand years old.

He looks tired.

Mari stands. “Not yet,” she says, brushing past him. “…put your shit away. Yuuri should be back soon.”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond this time. She leaves.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Yuuri,” she mutters to herself as she leaves the building. She feels eyes on her as she walks down the street. The vampire’s apartment isn’t on this side of the building. She knows it’s him.

“Be careful,” she says. She’s not sure who she means.


	53. mage king viktor + pig prince yuuri, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flyingsuits-blog-blog asked: Please tell me more about mage king victor and his mud loving crown prince husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [inspired by this post](https://kixboxer.tumblr.com/post/162385161402/mud-muffin-so-a-magical-spell-to-turn-the)

Mage King Viktor’s royal advisor - and former childhood minder - Yakov royally advises him when he is 27 to find true love.

“Get married,” are his exact words. Mage King Viktor paraphrases, like he always does. Yakov always speaks in riddles. He’s much easier to understand when Mage King Viktor translates what he says to the common tongue.

“Yes, of course,” Mage King Viktor says. His exact words, translated back into the language Yakov is most familiar with, are, “ha ha, no.”

—

This is how it actually goes.

—

Apples. Mage King Viktor binds his spells to apples. Apples are plentiful around his castle; there is an orchard within the high walls, and another in the woods. Apples take well to spells for very technical reasons no one but visiting scholars and perhaps Yakov on a good day ever listen to. Mage King Viktor has much to say on the subject of magical theory. Also, apples.

All anyone ever wants to talk about with him is his heir, and why he doesn’t have one.

He can turn the wind to ice! He can make bread from stones! He can twist the very shape of being with a bit of concentration and a modestly-sized apple. Mage King Viktor is very good at what he does.

Perhaps he prefers being a mage to being a king, but, well.

—

Well.

—

The apples from the woods are wild. This makes them better for certain things. The magic that only someone with Mage King Viktor’s level of skill should ever even try to do, for example.The magic that no one should ever attempt, according to Yakov.

Mage King Viktor ventures out to collect some wild apples one day when he is nearly done with being 27. Wild apples have inconsistent color. Wild apples are sour. Wild apples, perhaps, will lead Mage King Viktor to his true love.

At the base of one of the wild apple trees in the woods, Mage King Viktor finds a creature who is entirely wild but for the kerchief around its neck.

‘Oh,’ Mage King Viktor thinks to himself, ‘what a cute little piggy.’

He forgets about the wild apples, save for one he picks up from the ground.

—

He asks the pig if it wouldn’t like to accompany him back to his castle.

The pig does not answer him, because it is a pig.

But it follows him when he goes.


	54. photoshoot bj

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanabloemen asked: "FLEXING KEEPS YOU WET" + THAT NEW YOI POSTER GO!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this being the poster](https://kixboxer.tumblr.com/post/162418187637/randomsplashes-oh-my-godthis-yoitokyu-hands)

When the assistants come at Viktor with the oil he is prepared for it. He is used to it. Yuuri… Yuuri not so much.

“Why isn’t anyone else? But JJ asked to be? Viktor?” he asks helplessly as a woman almost as old as his mother very politely slathers his front until it shines. This is an ad for car insurance. Viktor told him it would be fun when their PR team came to them with the papers. Something they could do together before 4CC. A way to cut the stress.

Oddly, it’s working.

“They wanted it just to be you,” Viktor says, eyes closed as a reedy thin man applies mascara to his lashes, “but I thought you would want some company.”

“Why?”

Viktor knows what he means. “I’m not the only one looking only at you, Yuuri,” he hums teasingly.

It’s impossible to know whether he’s telling the truth. The only things Yuuri has been looking at since the arrived at the set earlier in the morning are the lone box of donuts on the craft services table and Viktor’s smooth, glistening chest. He is married to that smooth, glistening chest. He knows exactly how much work goes into that smooth, glistening chest, and exactly what it looks like when Viktor doesn’t bother to wax for a week or two. (He already ate one of the donuts, but he’ll add a couple km to his run later on, it will be fine, probably Viktor was too busy to notice.)

Phichit is somewhere nearby charming one of the makeup artists. Yurio is moodily showing Otabek pictures of Potya on his phone.

And Yuuri is getting covered in oil.

“It’s for when they hose you down,” the assistant tells him. “So the water beads up.”

“Oh,” Yuuri replies. “Thank you.” He cringes.

They leave him alone after they finish warning him not to put his jacket back on or to rub up against anything. Yuuri would tell them that won’t be a problem, except he can feel the heat from Viktor standing just behind him. There’s no point in making a promise if you have someone with an active intention to ruin it standing close enough to nudge his erection into your left ass cheek. “Ah,” Yuuri says to their retreating backs. “So.”

“So,” Viktor repeats. He takes half a step closer and rests his hands at Yuuri’s hips. His fingers glide through the oil before stopping at the edge of the swim shorts the car insurance company people wanted Yuuri to wear. 

“We can’t,” Yuuri says.

“Viktor,” Yuuri says.

“At least not here,” Yuuri says.

“At least not where anyone can _see_ ,” Yuuri says.

Viktor suggests the bathroom, behind craft services, and directly in front of the camera before Yuuri agrees with a secluded area behind several racks of long, everyday clothing that shouldn’t be necessary for a beach photo shoot. Yuuri glances longingly at one of the plush cable knit sweaters on the rack. He would much rather be wearing that, he thinks, considering. It’s not even February yet. In _Russia_.

He quickly forgets about the sweater when Viktor kneels down in front of him and deftly places Yuuri’s hands in his hair.

“Wha-wh-ugh,” Yuuri breathes, sometime later, “what if my oil rubs _oh_ -off?”

“Flexing keeps you wet,” Viktor responds, later still, “I’ll make sure you’re perfectly ready for the camera.”

(”Where were you two?” JJ asks after the first round of poses. Viktor is too busy pretending his hair has been like that the entire time to respond.)


	55. a morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanabloemen asked: "Give crap. Hunt dick."

Yuuri wakes to clammy, sticky thighs. _Oh no,_ he thinks, _not again. Where am I, I have prac-_

He passes a second threshold of wakefulness then, one which allows him to take in his surroundings and realize he is not twenty-one and in Detroit. He is twenty-five and back in Japan for the NHK Trophy. He’s got a gold medal strapped around his head. He’s lying on his fiance’s naked chest.

He, very importantly, is at least still wearing his underwear.

“Take away the sun,” someone near his feet groans. Phichit. Yuuri would know Phichit’s hungover whining anywhere.

He grunts to agree and grudgingly sits up to see if he can find the sun and throw a brick at it to put it out. In his sleep, Viktor whimpers at the loss of him and rolls himself in the direction Yuuri went. He curls up against Yuuri’s back. It’s sweet. Yuuri is going to marry that man. 

Yuuri won gold at the NHK Trophy.

Yuuri is _going to_ _marry that man._

He takes a well-deserved moment to panic, and in doing so he finally notices the reason for his sticky thighs. It’s gold… lipstick? Written on his left thigh in messy, looping swirls, slightly smeared, are the words **GIVE CRAP**. Well okay. Yuuri looks to his right thigh. It advises him to **HUNT DICK**.

It’s Phichit’s handwriting.

“Listen to your father,” the lump at Yuuri’s feet gurgles while it reassembles itself into someone who can be wearing last night’s thigh-highs and hot pants at 7AM and not feel ashamed about it at all. “Help me kill the sun.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says. “What.”

Yuuri won gold at the NHK Trophy.

Phichit won bronze. Phichit threw together a celebration anyway, because Phichit’s best friend won gold. Phichit’s best friend is _going to get married_. 

Phichit will throw a real bachelor party - parties, one for _every_ gold - later. For now he grabs the remaining shoe from Viktor’s foot and sets about making the room acceptably dim. “Listen to your father,” he repeats to his slack-faced son. He nods at the sage wisdom written on Yuuri’s thighs and pats Yuuri’s ankle. He couldn’t be more proud.


	56. yuuri + anxiety eating, pt 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanabloemen asked: "Cakes are going to shock your needs." + Yuuri and his bad food decisions

Jake used to take the leftover cake pops home at the end of the day. This is because there used to be leftover cake pops at the end of the day, most days. It’s not 2011 anymore, even if the Starbucks menu designers haven’t realized it yet. The cake pops do fine, but they hardly need to put out a case of them every day. Jake used to take them home and dip them in ice cream while he watched Scandal on his laptop.

Now Jake gives them away for free.

“We’re just gonna throw them out anyway,” he finds himself saying. “Go on.”

Beautiful International Student fiddles with the worn gift card in his hand. It has a peeling sticker on it - a hamster wearing a ridiculous paper hat. The card is registered to YK. Jake didn’t think the system even worked like that.

“Please?” Jake asks.

“Okay,” Beautiful International Student says. He dips two birthday cake pops in his raspberry green tea java chip soy frapp. He uses them to mix in the packets of Emergen-C and Gatorade brand protein powder he dumped in while Jake was working up to giving him a free panini too.

Beautiful International Student leaves without a panini.

Jake tries not to take it as a multi-level rejection.

“I’m so gay,” he sighs, watching Beautiful International Student’s perfect cake pop bubble butt walk away.

“You know he’s got a boyfriend, right?” Kisha asks. Kisha claims to be in the same Music Appreciation class as Beautiful International Student, but until she provides evidence - a name, a phone number - Jake refuses to believe her. “He talks about him to his friend, like, _all_ the time.”

“I’m really gay and I don’t need your negativity.”

Kisha rolls her eyes. It’s about 15 minutes to close and they need to start mopping things down and turning away the last jittery students writing papers by the windows. Also Jake is gay and Beautiful International Student is really Beautiful. A lesbian like Kisha could never understand how hard this is for him.

“It’s true.”

“Yeah,” Kisha jabs back, “you won’t stop telling me. But what I said is true too. He’s got a boyfriend. He left his wallet here once by mistake. You know what was inside it?”

“All the receipts I’ve ever given him with my phone number and food allergies written on them?” Jake asks. Jake is an optimistic kind of guy.

“Twenty-three really high quality pictures of his boyfriend. Also a Domino’s rewards card.”

Jake still goes home at the end of the day and watches Scandal on his computer. He doesn’t have cake pops and he doesn’t have Beautiful International Student. He does have the pizza he orders, and for now that can be enough. Jake is an optimistic kind of guy.


	57. size difference, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlo asked: *BANGS ON POTS* SIZE DIFFERENCE

Viktor is larger than just a person: he is a symbol, he is a brand, he is cold bare metal. Viktor is too much. That much is clear to him when he sets foot in what the map application on his phone assures him is Yu-Topia Akatsuki. Too tall, too much luggage, too loud. He brushes it to the back of his mind because he has a purpose here. (To bring out Yuuri Katsuki’s true potential, to surprise the world, to be loved.)

Things don’t go as he planned.

On reflection, they never do.

Yuuri will not sleep with him. His futon is too short. He draws noisy hordes of international press onto an otherwise content, sleepy village.

Viktor is too big for this life.

When Yuri Plisetsky arrives, he thinks about leaving it.

And then Yuuri, grasping tight to the image of the entangling of the egg, stands in front of him in a costume Viktor remembers Yakov absolutely _hating_ \- how a younger Viktor knew it was the right one - asking him to help zip it up.

Viktor is Yuuri’s coach. It is Viktor’s duty to help his skater. He places both hands against the small of Yuuri’s back and drags the diagonal zipper up up up. He lets his hand linger on Yuuri’s shoulder when he is done. It’s a comfortable place to rest. Yuuri is smaller than he is.

Yuuri is more than he is.

Viktor stays.

He finds, in the days that come, that perhaps he is not too large after all.

His vocabulary is achingly small. Toshiya teaches him a new word every day.

His grasp of Yuuri’s mind and moods is limited. Mari gives him hints.

His heart is the tiniest thing of all. When Hiroko pats his arm and patiently shows him how to dust around the display of Yuuri’s past successes, he can almost feel it beating out of his chest.

Viktor stays. He is the biggest member of the family. He is the smallest. He is himself. And after he sits next to Yuuri on the beach, he knows that is all he ever needed to be.


	58. size difference, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lavenderprose asked: SIZE DIFFERENCE GIVES ME ALL THE JOLLIES. ALL OF THEM.

Yuuri doesn’t make a habit of looking at himself in the mirror unless he already knows he isn’t going to like what he sees. It’s a mechanism that’s proved useful in his life. Necessary. Depressing.

It’s a month after Worlds and the edges of his hips are already beginning to round out over his waistband. He really thought it wasn’t going to happen this time. He hasn’t been binge eating. He hasn’t turned himself into a disgrace. He - he looks down at his right hand - he’s happy.

Viktor catches him like this after his shower, striding out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam and impossible grace. Yuuri has married a real life model. He has had fantasies just like this before, except in those fantasies he was always in peak condition and wearing six gold medals draped around his neck.

“What’s wrong?” Viktor asks, coming up behind Yuuri to join him at the mirror.

A year before Yuuri would have said ‘nothing’ or, ‘V-viktor? what are you doing in my bathroom?!’ Now Yuuri says, “the victory katsudon are catching up to me,” ruefully. He jabs at his softening belly. He huffs in sharp disappointment.

Viktor blinks at their reflection before peering down over Yuuri’s shoulder to look at Yuuri’s stomach directly. His arms come around Yuuri’s waist to cage him in, to rest on his hips. “You do feel like a winner,” he says, which doesn’t mean anything.

(It still means _something_ , Yuuri has had these fantasies too.)

“I won’t be anymore if I don’t get back to competition weight.”

“Why?”

Yuuri stares at the mirror. His previous summer in Hasetsu comes back to him in a sped up memory, a flurry of training montages and cutting remarks. Why? It should be obvious why. He says as much. He says more.

“I thought you liked me when I was smaller than you best.” Yuuri of last year definitely would not have said that. Yuuri of last month definitely would not have said that. Yuuri of now still can’t quite believe he said that.

Viktor breathes in sharply, then brings his hands up to join Yuuri’s on his stomach. He presses, gently but firmly. He’s still looking down over Yuuri’s shoulder, a heavy weight on Yuuri’s back.

“I thought I liked you when you surprise me best,” Viktor says, “but you’re surprising me now and I don’t like it at all.”

They stand in front of the mirror. Yuuri silently counts the stretch marks that run like cobwebs down his hips to his thighs.

“I like you when you’re with me best,” Viktor finally decides on. “When you’re not with me second best.” And then, “we both have training to do, but it can wait. It’s only June.”

He kisses the side of Yuuri’s neck and saunters away, chatting about setting another Onsen on Ice since the last one was so much fun, about doing another pair skate, about putting Yuuri in even more mesh this time.

He’s being an awful coach right now. Yuuri loves him for it.


	59. shall we skate (through time) snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> katsukiyuuristrophyhusband asked: POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor’s perspective in [Shall We Skate (Through Time)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633431)

The Sochi GPF resolves itself quickly, as all competitions do. Viktor flies to where he needs to be. He practices - for Yakov, for the public - he skates and he wins. He entertains his sponsors and donors. He misses Makkachin. He flies home. Competitions are all the same, but they are a necessary part of competitive figure skating. And Viktor does like to win.

Sochi speeds by in a flurry of normalcy.

But then something causes it to diverge.

All of the men’s singles finalists are nervous to some degree at practice, all except for the one from Japan. Katsuki. He glides into everyone else’s space, alternating between mindless figures and the type of step sequences Viktor has considered programming for himself before setting them aside. Katsuki loops and twirls around his competition, eyes closed, ignoring the shouts from his coach. When practice ends he hobbles off to some other part of the building, but not before stopping in front of Viktor to ask, “If I get gold will you be my coach?”

Viktor always does his best to acknowledge his fans and be supportive to younger skaters. He knows he’s a role model.

He doesn’t have an answer for Katsuki.

He develops one as the competition moves along.

“Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in time?” Katsuki asks him.

“Every day of my life,” Viktor says.

After that Katsuki skates. Then Viktor. Then Viktor wins. When he stands at center ice with his medal and flowers he knows in the back of his mind he will spend the evening entertaining his sponsors and donors. He’s been missing Makkachin since he left his apartment. He will fly home tomorrow and with any luck his flight will only be delayed by an hour or two.

The GPF has moved by as quickly as he expected it would.

For the first time in a long time, Viktor wishes it hadn’t.


	60. closet pervert AU snippet, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rainywithachanceofstars asked: Prompt: exclusive. Closet pervert AU. :)

It takes Yuuri a long time to fall asleep that first night, long enough that Viktor is home and showered and lying in bed next to him and the dogs by the time his eyelids even begin to droop. Yuuri isn’t used to the quiet living in a high rise affords, or the 1000 thread count sheets. He’s very used to Viktor’s face staring up at him as he’s trying to sleep.

He leans back against his dakimakura for strength.

“What do you mean?” he asks. He’s not wearing his glasses. Viktor is lying close enough that it doesn’t matter.

“Just,” Viktor says, “it’s just something someone brought up today. Nothing. It’s fine.”

Yuuri waits, more out of confusion than strategy.

“What are we?” Viktor asks finally, body language carefully calm. “Someone asked me today if we were exclusive. He thought he might have seen you with another host, at a different club. And he’s a terrible gossip.”

And, Yuuri supposes, this isn’t something they have talked about. Technically. Actually. They haven’t spoken any words with their vocal chords and mouths about it, and Yuuri doesn’t like that way of speaking to begin with, but Viktor is a foreigner. He needs it.

“I didn’t believe him,” Viktor offers half-heartedly. He’s a terrible liar; his facial expressions never match when he’s doing it. His mouth cuts open into the widest expression of joy Yuuri’s ever seen while his eyes sit like blank dots on cheap paper.

“We’re not exclusive,” Yuuri says. He sighs when he sees Viktor’s liar’s face misinterpret and freeze in place. “You have other clients. A lot of them.”

“They don’t mean anything.”

“Don’t be cruel about their feelings,” Yuuri scolds. He sits up. Viktor grabs the dakimakura Yuuri had been lying on and holds it close. The sight of Viktor holding a plush copy of himself makes Yuuri even less sleepy than he was before. “You like their attention too. Don’t say they mean nothing to you.”

Their apartment is high enough in the air and made of good enough materials that it is very quiet when neither of them is speaking. The lights from the city still make it through the wall of windows, though, and the colors flicker across Viktor’s face. Yuuri has his back to it. He supposes he must be in shadow.

“You’re mine,” Yuuri says, placing a palm on Viktor’s head. “I don’t go to other clubs. Why would I want anyone else?”


	61. donut au, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: i wish you would write a fic where you did more with the donut au, seriously i have so many questions

Saint Taft’s Academy for Artisanal Youths has a fencing team, an internationally-ranked chamber orchestra, five separate stables and seven hundred cherry trees. It also has an antique Olympic-sized swimming pool that was built in the days before pinnacles took their rightful place at the peak of society. The water polo team practices in it on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Saturdays the hoverboard jetski team runs speed drills. The swim team gets the pool to themselves during the rest of the week.

This has never been important to Yuuri before. It is now.

“Headmaster Cruller said I have to take an elective,” Yuuri tells Phichit, lying flat on his back, arm cast over his eyes. “He said Yearbook doesn’t count.”

“But you take the best pictures of the fencing team!” Phichit exclaims.

And according to the Yearbook editor those pictures were the best portfolio submission she had ever seen. Those pictures were the reason Yuuri was allowed to join the Yearbook staff to begin with. Yuuri sleeps with those pictures inside his pillowcase. Now he’ll have to sleep with a banana tarp and goggles inside his pillowcase. It’s going to be lumpy. Even more damp than it already is.

“I’ll be okay,” Yuuri says, pretending to be strong, like a grizzled old-fashioned hero left out in the sun. “Tell Viktor I’ll… tell him I’ll see him on Tuesday. And Thursday. And Saturday.”

Phichit throws himself at his best friend.

—

Viktor throws himself at the pool. Yuuri has to rescue him.


	62. eternal tango snippet, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dadvans asked: ok so my sad 1x2 shipper heart just found out there was a gundam wing novel in 2010 that had old heero and relena get married, and whatever, it's fine, i'm fine!!!!! but anyway, i still want to hear about victor nikiforov as relena peacecraft and terrible, no good, very bad spy and gundam pilot yuuri katsuki

Viktor is made to wait in a small sitting room after they destroy his country for the second time. He is wearing a light blue vest, and linen slacks, and the most diplomatic not-smile his adoptive father ever taught him, even though there are armed guards standing on either side of the only door. There is a vase full of fresh pink roses on the carved oak table in the center of the room.

They make him the King of the Earth within the hour.

It is, he reflects as he waits for his turn to step towards the podium and address his billions of subjects, a fantastic way to find Yuuri again. It is also a sham and a way to keep him hostage and tie Christophe’s hands. Viktor knows that quite well. But as he stands demurely in his suit and crown he also thinks about how their time was cut short. He still has so many things he needs to say to Yuuri, things he’d like to ask.

Does Yuuri like to bike on the weekends? Will he ever stop promising to tie Viktor up and spout military philosophy at him and actually do it? Viktor sighs. 

The Duke calls his name.

—

Yuuri nervously flicks the safety on his gun back and forth. Back. Forth. Back. It’s a terrible nervous habit, both because it’s noisy and because one day he’s going to shoot himself in the foot. An actual Oz soldier walks by him as Yuuri slips his gun back into its holster at his side. Yuuri nods. The soldier nods back and continues on his way to another dark corner in the upper balcony. Yuuri has no fucking idea how he hasn’t been captured yet. (Again. Recently. Yuuri’s been captured a lot since coming to Earth. Phichit won’t stop laughing at him about it when they happen to be in the same areas, attacking the same targets.)

Below him a small congregation of the most powerful people in the world sit on chairs six times older than his colony has even existed.

In front of them, an old man wearing a cloak and a feathered cap smirks and talks about peace. He doesn’t mean it. Yuuri might be the worst pilot ever to destroy an Alliance base single-handedly, but even he knows when he’s being lied to.

The old man finishes his speech. Yuuri gets into position. He takes his gun out of its holster. He flicks the safety.

The old man steps back and gestures to someone on the side of the stage.

—

“Join with me,” Viktor says to the camera, “in striving for peace.”

He chances a glance up towards the second floor balcony of the large ballroom they’ve chosen to hold the announcement of his coronation in. His eyes are drawn immediately to a soldier fidgeting near a pillar on the left side.

Not fidgeting; preparing to shoot.

Not a soldier. _Yuuri_. Eyes focused, and cold, and entirely on Viktor. No one else.

—

 _Just shoot me_ , Viktor mouths.

“Space Jesus fuck,” Yuuri whispers harshly. He almost shoots himself in the foot.


	63. elderly poodle makkachin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlo asked: More of Victor and Yuuri taking care of elderly poodle Makkachin

Viktor finds them together in the bedroom in the middle of the day. “What are you doing?” he accuses, hurt.

Yuuri looks up at him from their bed. “Shh,” he whispers, placing a crumpled receipt in the middle of his book to mark his page. Viktor has purchased him at least five hand-tooled leather bookmarks. Yuuri never uses them. And now this. “I only just got her down for her nap.”

Curled up next to him, Makkachin drools a light circle on the sheets on Viktor’s side of the bed. Her paws twitch in her sleep. Her head is nestled on Viktor’s favorite pillow, her silver snout just touching Yuuri’s thigh.

“You should have told me,” Viktor says, kneeling down next to the bed. He rests his elbows on the edge and looks up at his husband with the kind of empty despair that brought him a third of the medals in the safe in their closet. “I wanted to read to her.”

He also wants to join them on the bed and envelop them in an embrace that takes up all his strength, but the last time he did that while Makkachin was taking her afternoon nap she woke up and was miserable for the rest of the evening. Even when Viktor brought out the chicken-flavored toothpaste and let her eat more of it than ended up on the toothbrush. Viktor does not want a repeat of that.

“The vet called to confirm her next appointment,” Yuuri whispers, setting his book down on the mattress next to him. Makkachin snorts in her sleep. Viktor could kiss her if it wouldn’t wake her.

“I hate him,” Viktor grumbles, and he does. Makkachin’s doctor is the best in the city, but he keeps talking about things like end of life care, and next steps, and making Makkachin comfortable. As though every day of Makkachin’s life hasn’t been comfortable! As though Makkachin isn’t going to live forever.

Yuuri, sweet Yuuri, looks down over his glasses at Viktor. His hair is still sweaty from his walk with Makkachin earlier. His hands smell like the liver-flavored pill pouches Makkachin likes best. His sweater is actually Viktor’s sweater. “Hm,” he agrees, “he is very rude.”

God, but Viktor loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN REALIZING THAT I END WITH VERSIONS OF THAT LAST LINE **SO MUCH** AHHHHHHHHHH I NEED TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO END THINGS


	64. prince viktor's magic tears, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I WISH YOU WOULD WRITE A FIC WHERE THE IDEA OF THIEF!YUURI ACCIDENTALLY SAVING PRINCE!VIKTOR WAS EXPANDED UPON!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [IS THIS THE ONE YOU MEAN I DON'T REMEMBER](https://kixboxer.tumblr.com/post/159824711162/but-how-after-kubo-mentioned-trolls-chasing-victor)
> 
> OKAY

Yuuri comes upon a very beautiful man standing in the middle of the woods arguing with a fluffy poodle. The very beautiful man’s clothes are very expensive, and Yuuri is very hungry. He hasn’t eaten properly in three days. He has a knife at hand and a very beautiful victim. The very beautiful man says, “Makkachin, which way is west?”

“That way,” Yuuri points with his knife. Then he says, “damn,” and, “I’m robbing you?”

The very beautiful man perks up immediately. “Oh thank you!” he says. “Makkachin and I need to go west to find the sea. Trolls don’t like the sea.” He clasps his hands around Yuuri’s - the one not holding the knife - and beams down at Yuuri with the bluest eyes Yuuri has ever seen in his life. They’re bluer than the sky. They’re like glacial ice, almost. 

“Do you have any money?” Yuuri means to ask. What Yuuri actually asks is, “I can help you find it?” and “Are you hungry?”

The very beautiful man taps his lips with a single, long finger. Yuuri loses a year off his life. “It’s been hours since breakfast,” the very beautiful man muses, “yes, a little. Makka?” The dog boofs. “Makkachin is hungry too. What about you?”

Yuuri’s stomach rumbles loudly enough to startle an entire family of songbirds out of their nearby nest. He flushes, and puts his knife away, and readies himself to give up and find someone else to rob, because clearly this isn’t going in his favor. Instead he finds himself at the nearest inn fifteen minutes later, dipping bread in honey and letting the very beautiful man - Vitya, prince of the northern kingdom of beets and tragedy - hand-feed him figs.

“I’m being chased,” Vitya says, waving down a serving girl for more wine. He’s sitting so close Yuuri can’t even smell his own body anymore, just Vitya’s expensive balms and perfumes. “For my tears. Will you help me?”

He puts his hand on Yuuri’s thigh.

Yuuri nods so hard it hurts.


	65. rust red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pearlo asked: Title meme: Rust Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe like a dystopian version of Rose Red.

Yuuri and Phichit live with their caretaker Celestino in the Sandwastes beyond the Abandoned Sea. Yuuri likes to stay inside and play video games on an old N64 he found and refurbished. He’s really good at fixing machinery and anything that involves circuits. He doesn’t clean up after himself much, but one pro of living in the Sandwastes is that if you want to clean up there’s no point. There will be sand everywhere. Everything is pointless.

Phichit, on the other hand, likes to go outside and explore and adventure! He wears electrogoggles to protect his eyes from the sand and to see heat signatures through the dunes, and he also wears a rust red cloak because it’s fucking hot out and the cloak has cooling cells in it. He sometimes convinces Yuuri to go out exploring with him, but often he wanders by himself and brings back all the parts and bits and wires and pieces Yuuri needs to repair his trinkets and also their home.

One day a monstrous cybernetic bird appears at the entrance to their home. Phichit is ready to stab it with his hunting knife, and Yuuri’s just about ready to blast a few holes in it with his rifle, when it begs for mercy. Its processors have been fried in the harsh sunlight, it says, it only wishes for a shaded place to rest.

The bird stays for the whole summer.

It lets Yuuri inspect its workings for damages, and it wanders forlornly behind Phichit when he hunts for interesting things in the Sandwastes. It screams with Celestino when Celestino pretends he can sing. Sometimes the luminescent rock jackals join them.

Phichit misses the bird after it leaves.

The bird was ridiculous, sure, but it was kind. It was big enough to scare away predators. Yuuri got really excited whenever it cried, because how? How was it able to cry?

When the planet tilts and summer turns into dark and frozen winter, Phichit meets an old man with a robotic arm on the path to the Clifftop Village on the edge of the Sandwastes. The old man barely has any hair left and has nothing nice to say. Phichit leaves him in a bind, but doesn’t feel bad about it. Barely anyone can make Phichit feel bad about the things he does. Possibly Yuuri. Maybe the bird.

He meets the old man time and again, mostly alone but sometimes with Yuuri, until it is summer again and the old man is berating Phichit for taking a capacitor he claims is his, and then the bird is back again, wings held wide.

“Georgi Pavlovich, what in this forsaken world have you done to yourself,” the old man shouts.

Phichit takes this opportunity to stab the old man and run away, capacitor in hand. He only goes back because Yuuri is worried about the bird, and also a little nervous about the murder Phichit may have just committed. If there’s a body they’ll need to bury it. Everyone this side of the Abandoned Sea knows what a wound from Phichit’s knife looks like. There are only so many infractions Yuuri can get Phichit out of before they’re both taken off to the Fortress where the Wind Princes live.

When they return to the spot Phichit stabbed the old man, the old man is still there but the bird is not. In his place is a man wearing a light blue cloak trimmed in crow feathers. His eyes flicker with the lights from his biometric implants. He says his name is Georgi, third prince of the Wind. He says he was the bird.


	66. the aquatic uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> katsukiyuuristrophyhusband asked: the aquatic uncle

Viktor runs a pet shop that specializes in fish and dogs, and his nephew Yuri is very tired of it. It’s just weird, okay, fish and dogs are a weird combination. He should have just stuck with one! Or the other! Or cats!! Why doesn’t Viktor have any cats! It’s ridiculous and Yuri hates him for it.

(“What do you mean I don’t have any cats,” is what Viktor has to say on the subject. “I have you, don’t I? You’re always here. I don’t even pay you.”)

One day who walks in but a dreamboat with enormous dark eyes and a dead goldfish in a bag. He’s like the woman who saunters into a private investigator’s office asking about her husband at the beginning of the movie, before anyone has technically died. He’s devastating and definitely going to cause trouble. He’s about to cry.

(”My roommate won him at the fair and I was supposed to watch him this weekend but he died while I was in the shower I don’t know what to do!”)

Yuri is about to tell him to just get a cat when Viktor swoops in all ‘fair goldfish never last very long’ and ‘ha ha here’s my personal number’. Dreamy McGoldfishKiller looks up at Viktor and the slow spread of the blush across the bridge of his nose makes both Viktor and Yuri forget where they are long enough that when they come back to themselves Dreamy is gone.

(Dreamy, whose name is also Yuuri _how dare he_ , thinks a pet shop that specializes in fish and dogs is _wonderful_. Yuri questions his taste in men.)


	67. waffle house eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Any pairing. Waffle House Eclipse.

Yuuri Katsuki misses the Great American Solar Eclipse of 2017 because he loses track of the time while crying in a Waffle House bathroom. The Diamond Ring breaks into Bailey’s Beads. Someone else stumbles into the stall next to him. Yuuri sees two long legs kneel down on the tile floor on opposite sides of the toilet bowl from underneath the stall walls. Great.

He tries to breathe quietly, silently, but his tears have never been kind to him.

He starts hiccuping.

The guy in the next stall heaves.

Bailey’s Beads give way to Totality, not that Yuuri or the drunk would know it. Five minutes of intermittent retching later Totality still has its hold on the universe, Yuuri is still blissfully, miserably unaware, and the man in the stall over leans back, apparently finished.

“Do you ever,” he rasps, “wish your past self made better choices?”

Yuuri laughs and hiccups, and cries and laughs.

Totality passes. The building outside the bathroom begins to buzz again as people wander back inside from the parking lot.

Yuuri tentatively steps out of his stall, meaning to rinse his eyes and maybe get out of there before anyone else can bear witness to his weakness. The drunk is already out in front of the sinks, though, destroying Yuuri’s hopes for a quick, anonymous exit. The drunk is tall, with fine silver hair and red-rimmed eyes to match Yuuri’s.

He looks more tired than drunk.

Yuuri hands him a crumpled tissue before leaving. “It’s clean,” he says when the stranger raises an eyebrow at him. “Just. The paper towels are harsh. On your face.”

The stranger’s eyes widen. He nods. Yuuri flees.

(Yuuri backs his car into the stranger’s in the parking lot.)

(”Well now you _have_ to take me home,” the stranger teases.)

(They make it to Austin in 2024. They almost miss the eclipse again, because of Viktor’s wandering hands and Yuuri’s terrible sense of time.)


	68. quidditch au snippet, pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: This may be common bit Viktuuri HP AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries, anon! This is set inside my existing Quidditch AU.

They catch a rowdy porkey back to Japan with the rest of the Japanese National Team after the qualifier against the United States. Yuuri’s supposed to say something about their - technical - win; he’s supposed to encourage them, and fire them up, and get them to spend the next month and a half living on their brooms in preparation for their match against the Czech Republic. If Yuuri were a better captain - like, oh, say, for instance, _someone_ , he thinks, looking out of the corner of his eye at Viktor sitting in the stands, waiting for him to finish - he would do all those things and more. But Yuuri’s not a better captain. He’s not even a _good_ captain, really.

He’s just the only captain they’ve got.

“You did well,” he tells the team. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

Fiddling with his glasses, he hops up onto his broom and flies up into the stands to collect Viktor. It’s a relief once he’s in the air. He leaves the murmur sounds of his team behind him along with the ground.

When he sets foot onto the bench next to Viktor he expects they’ll leave quickly. They don’t. Instead Viktor pats the wood next to him until Yuuri sits. One of them slides closer until they’re touching, shoulder-to-shoulder. And Viktor gestures to the pitch, and says, “they love you.”

Yuuri squints down at the field. Omiki waves up at him excitably. And then the one wave turns into six, seven, the entire team. Yuuri lifts one hand and stiffly crooks his fingers back. Next to him, Viktor exhales.

Twenty minutes later they apparate home. Yuuri can’t help but feel he’s failed a critical lesson, but Viktor waves him off when he asks that evening, surrounded by the onsen’s steam. “It’s not a single day’s lesson,” Viktor says, leaning back against the edge of the bath.

Yuuri watches a drop of water wind its way from Viktor’s ear, along his jaw, and down his neck. Past his neck, to his chest, and - “I. Left my stove on the wand, I mean, my wand on the stove, I’ve. I.”

He scrambles up and away before Viktor has the chance to respond.


	69. closet pervert AU snippet, pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: i don't know why the #yuuri has a being touched on the shoulder in public made me think of your pervert yuuri constantly taking victor's hand and putting it on his shoulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that’s it. I wasn’t thinking of that before, anon, but now I can’t stop. Set a couple months after the end of a hand like yours to take mine, before Viktor quits his job:

The nature of host clubs means Viktor almost never has the weekends off, and when he does it’s because he’s charmed and wheedled and maybe lied to Yakov a bit. Yuuri hasn’t encouraged this charming and wheedling and lying since they moved in together, possibly out of empathy for Viktor’s other clients - “I know how much they want to see you, Viktor” - or maybe out of sympathy for Yakov. Yuuri respects Yakov. Yakov likes Yuuri. Everybody at Grand Prix likes Yuuri, as well they should.

Either way, Viktor works weekends even though he has a boyfriend and technically doesn’t need to work at all, and Yuuri doesn’t work weekends because he has a regular day job meant for a regular person. It’s very tragic, the way he’ll get out of bed and leave Viktor every morning, the way he’ll already be asleep if Viktor doesn’t scramble out of Grand Prix at the end of his shift as soon as he can. The other hosts smirk at him, jamming his coat on his head and his hat on his arm in his flurry to leave, but none of them have Yuuri to go home to, so.

So sometimes, often, Yuuri visits the host club on the weekend.

“Andrei, Andrei! Over here!” Viktor looks up from the bottle he’s uncorked and smiles at the three women and one man who have reserved his presence and conversation for the next two hours. It’s the bachelorette party of one of the women, if he remembers correctly. The one wearing the crown and the purple sundress is his best guess. He pours her flute of champagne first and raises it in a toast. He toasts… to something. Love probably. Love, ironically, is a safe bet at Grand Prix.

The fabric around his neck presses against his throat when he swallows his mouthful of champagne; they’re all pretending to be waiters tonight, complete with starched white shirts, dark vests and bow ties, deference dialed up even further than normal. Viktor’s bachelorette party chats about the venue (a garden) and the cost (astronomical) and the groom (not as handsome as “Andrei”) before turning their attention to the small dance floor set up by the windows.

Viktor can see Emil and Mila already there with Chris and one of his regulars.

“Would you care to dance, my dear,” Viktor extends his hand to the probable bride, though he can’t think of any café where the waiters stop their work to dance with you. He’ll point that out to Yakov later.

Dancing is the one activity where touching is allowed.

The guests pay a lot of money to dance with hosts.

Behind the bar, Yuuri sits, watching.

Well.

He might not be watching anymore, exactly. In fact, if Viktor turned around to check he wouldn’t be completely thrown to see Yuuri with his head bent down, face lit in the blue-white glow from his little gaming device. Play Box Whatever. Nintendo. Viktor _chooses_ to believe Yuuri is sitting behind the bar still watching him, even after four hours without purchasing any of Viktor’s time. He behaves accordingly, moving slickly across the room, content to imagine Yuuri’s eyes on him.

He pretends to lose track of time as he dances, although that’s impossible in a place where his time is so carefully metered. Georgi whispers he’s coming up on a break as he passes by with a set of boys making a beeline for Emil. Viktor counts calories in his head to distract himself as he moves and sways, plans meals. Rice: 130kcal. Miso: 198kcal. Katsudon: 900kcal.

When Georgi walks up to wish the bachelorette party a pleasant goodnight, Viktor knows it’s time. He nudges Chris on the shoulder, waves to Mila, almost puts his hand on the small of the bride’s back. She flushes and buys a pillow with his face on it before she leaves.

Viktor grins once she’s gone.

“I don’t get why that works,” Yurio grumbles, hustling by with a tray and a towel to clear away the sticky glasses and empty champagne bottle from Viktor’s table. Viktor will have more clients soon. If not proper ones then Mila, at least, looking to catch up with a little gossip.

“You will when you’re older.”

“Viktor.”

Yurio and Viktor both stop what they’re doing, obvious in how Yuuri’s voice draws them. Some distant part of Viktor _knows_ Chris is rolling his eyes at them from the dance floor. He deserves it, he really does, but he doesn’t care. This isn’t the first time he’s acted like a fool. This isn’t the first time he’s enjoyed it, either, but it’s the first time it’s still mattered in a month, in the morning.

Yuuri’s still wearing his overcoat, though his face mask is gone. The scarf Viktor gave him lies loosely around his shoulders. His little gaming box thing is tucked away in one of his pockets with his gloves.

Viktor has his full attention.

“You have time?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor nods, gulps, feels the tie around his throat constrict. It constricts further when Yuuri grabs Viktor’s hand and places it on his shoulder and _presses_ , presses until Viktor guides them to a booth. Viktor leaves his hand there on Yuuri’s shoulder as the minutes of his break wind down.

They aren’t supposed to be doing this.

Yakov frowns upon hosts showing obvious favoritism, or bringing boyfriends or girlfriends on the premises, let alone during working hours. More than one host has gotten fired for it. Clients don’t like to see it: it pierces through the veil of possibility. _Maybe this time he’s smiling at me because he likes me_ or _maybe he really does think I’m enchanting_ or _maybe this is real._ Boyfriends aren’t supposed to hang around for four hours without paying. Boyfriends aren’t supposed to have a host touch them possessively in full view of the dance floor and everyone.

Yuuri, Viktor has found, is the exception to a lot of things.

“You don’t have to stop yourself,” Yuuri says after taking a sip from the coffee Viktor doesn’t remember anyone bringing him. “The next time. Even if you’re not dancing. Especially if you are.”

“Stop myself from doing what?” Viktor asks.

“From looking at me.”

Viktor steals a sip from Yuuri’s coffee. It’s burnt but sweet; Yurio must have made it.

“I won’t, then.”

When he has to go back to his job it’s with a dizzy head that lasts until it’s time for him, them, to leave.

“That boy of yours could do well for himself if he’d take off that terrible coat and do something about his hair,” Chris says when they freshen up in the back room. Chris always takes his contacts out before he walks off to whatever client he’s sleeping with currently. Viktor likes to wipe off the makeup as soon as he doesn’t need it anymore, cautious with his skin.

“My Yuuri’s hair is his own business,” Viktor replies, dipping a finger into a pot of moisturizing cream. “And my future great-uncle-in-law gave him that coat as a graduation present. It has sentimental value.”

“So domestic,” Chris teases, like he’s not going back to the same address for the fifth week in a row, which, for him, is practically the beginnings of a marriage contract.

Viktor smiles into the mirror, at half his face still done up, the other half smeared and puffy. “Very,” he says, proud.

Yuuri waits for Viktor inside the club these days. He sits on a chair and watches Yurio mop up, gives short responses to Emil’s chatter as Emil takes inventory at the bar, points out where that other guy missed a spot cleaning the windows. He always notices Viktor before Viktor can sneak up on him, a pity, and he has Viktor’s arm slung around his back, hand on his shoulder, before Viktor can string a greeting together. Less of a pity.

Mila wants to have brunch with them tomorrow, and most of Viktor is making plans with her – “Oh, but they don’t allow dogs! Makkachin and Vicchan would be so lonely outside!” – but his fingers have started rubbing and rolling the fabric of Yuuri’s coat idly, and he can feel it when Yuuri shifts his weight to lean into his touch.

They bid Mila goodnight.

“I’m going to be sick on Monday,” Yuuri says while they walk to the subway.

“Are you?”

“You are too.”

“If that’s what you predict,” Viktor experimentally moves his hand away to press the walk signal when they come to a stop at a crosswalk. Yuuri grabs his hand and sets it back in its rightful place on his shoulder without looking. A few clumsy drunks on the other side of the street whistle at them. “And why are we going to be sick?”

“Because,” Yuuri says, pulling his and Viktor’s Pasmo cards out of his pocket, “tomorrow night, after we get home, I’m going to tie you up.”

Viktor took off his bow tie before he washed his makeup away. His throat still feels tight.

“We’re going to need time to recover.”

“I already feel the chills,” he says, maybe. He thinks he says it, but it might get lost between his mind and his clumsy tongue.

He keeps his hand on Yuuri for the rest of their way home.


	70. FUCKING VAMPIRE AU, PT 11 (title: BECAUSE I WOULD FUCK YOU UNTIL IT KILLED ME)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for @fireblazie, who deserves rest. takes place in my [fucking vampire AU](https://kixboxer.tumblr.com/tagged/fucking+vampire+AUs/chrono), set before [this one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10363338/chapters/23743839). title is a terrible joke. how did this happen.

When eternal rest comes to collect Viktor in Japan it misreads his address and kicks down the wrong door. Yuuri barely manages to turn his instinctive lunge for a defensive weapon into a passably polite “Hello?” before he is no longer alone in his apartment.

“Beast of Hell,” Eternal Rest bellows, stomping past Yuuri’s umbrella stand, shoes still on. “Did you think you could outrun me?!” When Eternal Rest turns the corner between the living room and the kitchen he reveals himself to be a greying, wrinkled man wearing a fur coat and a furious scowl. He does not appear overly bothered by Yuuri, who is eating cup noodles at his dinner table in the middle of the afternoon, or by the fact that the Beast of Hell is not present in Yuuri’s apartment.

According to both written record and family tradition Yuuri’s great great great great grandmother banished the Beast of Hell _back_ to hell, so he’s confused why this strange man thinks it could currently be lurking in a small one bedroom apartment in Hasetsu, Japan. It’s definitely still in hell. Katsukis are thorough. (Except for Yuuri, who is dating an undead monster instead of killing it, but, oh–)

“Excuse me,” Yuuri says to the old man who has invaded his home, “are you looking for Viktor?”

Eternal Rest growls.

From behind him, a gangly teenager wearing a lime green leather jacket and overlarge headphones sticks his head into the room. “Grandpa,” he says in Russian, “that was, like, a seven on the door. Not a one. Oh,” he squints at Yuuri. On someone older it might look like a leer. “Are you an incubus, because– oof!”

Grandfather Eternal Rest, bringer of undeath, grabs the teenager by the shoulder without turning around and marches them both further into Yuuri’s home.

—

After settling his guests in with some tea Yuuri takes his panicking to the bathroom like any respectable host without a soundproofed kitchen should. He lets the faucet run and calls Viktor. He describes the man, the teenager. The inadvertent insult to Yuuri’s great great great great grandmother.

“Viktor what did you _do_?”

Viktor doesn’t remember what he did.

“The 1870s were a difficult time for everyone,” he says vaguely.

Viktor doesn’t even remember _when_ he did it.

“ _18_ 70s?!”

“Oh, no, that’s wrong, isn’t it,” Viktor mutters. He’s been alive for a thousand years, give or take. He has troubles with time. Yuuri hears nonsense numbers whispered over the line - one, fifteen, twenty-two - and Yuuri knows if he could see his unholy corpsemonster boyfriend right now he would see him counting off on his fingers and looking down at his shoes as though seeing his toes could seriously help. “…The 1970s,” Viktor finally clarifies with forced confidence. “That’s the right one.”

Yuuri hangs up on him.

Next Yuuri calls his mother. He should have started by calling his mother. This is what love does to you, he thinks, it addles you. And then… god. _Love_.

—

Yuuri’s mother very sensibly calls a guild meeting and tells Yuuri to bring the strangers. She doesn’t tell him to drop names but he does, accidentally, still distracted by his revelation. He’s in love. He loves his boyfriend. His boyfriend is dead, but Yuuri loves him anyway. His dead boyfriend probably killed someone important to the old man, or the teenager, or both, and Yuuri loves his dead boyfriend so much he’s willing to ask forgiveness for him, or to dump the foreigners in the park for the regular human police to find. God.

 _Love_.

Yuuri would commit murder for his irresponsible, definitely-at-fault, dead monster boyfriend who is probably at this moment still trying to figure out in which decade he did the thing he did to make the old man hate him so much. He’s probably taken his shoes off. He’s counting his toes. Yuuri is so in love with his dumb dead boyfriend who can’t keep track of centuries, let alone decades, that he stands at the bus stop and misses the bus he needs to get them to BOBATOPIA. Twice.

The teenager mentions something about a rental car.

The old man huffs.

And then they’ve got a Lexus, like Minako, and Yuuri’s absent mind speaks even though he has been trained since childhood to safeguard information, and…

“Katsuki family?” The old man asks, pausing his scowl just long enough to look the slightest bit ashamed. The teenager perks up in the back seat. His headphones sit silently around his neck now. He hasn’t stopped squinting at Yuuri.

Yuuri could stab him with the paring knife he quietly slipped into his sweater sleeve when he set their tea cups in the sink. He could make it look like an accident.

“Woooow,” the teenager says. “Grandpa aren’t those guys, like, super famous? We’re in the Feltsman family,” the teenager points to his chest, jabs the old man’s shoulder. “Not the main branch, but, you know. I know stuff.”

Yuuri has heard of the Feltsman family. They do important work. He could still leave these two dead in the park.

God.

_Love._

—

Eternal Rest’s actual name is Yuri Plisetsky. He is in Japan on a tourist visa so he has, in his own words, “90 days to drag that rancid corpse back to Zelenograd in a silver-lined crate.”

“I see,” Yuuri’s mother says.

Half of the other elders in attendance nod approvingly. Yuuri commits their names to memory, not that he would stab them and leave them in a park somewhere, just. Perhaps it’s best he doesn’t leave Viktor alone with them. Viktor is a trusting idiot. Yuuri loves him too much to lose him.

Over in the corner at the children’s table, Viktor waggles his fingers in a carefree wave at the hastily-convened summit. BOBATOPIA has closed early, but it’s late enough in the day for the triplets to already be out of school so he and the three of them are sitting at the shorter children’s table by the window, drinking milk tea. Pretending to drink milk tea in Viktor’s case. His cup has a cartoon pig on it. His long legs stick out awkwardly from the sides of the small table. It’s a very cute picture and Yuuri wishes he could disappear back into the library and not have to be here for this, but he’s part of the main branch of the family and there are rules. Decorum. Formalities.

 _Love_.

(Yuuri waves back.)

“88 days,” the teenager clarifies. His name is Yakov and he is not actually Yuri Plisetsky’s grandson at all. He is an apprentice. Plisetsky made it very, very clear during introductions that they are not related. The teenager ignored him. “We took a couple days in Tokyo first, like, they have _cat cafés_. Grandpa _had to_.”

Plisetsky flushes.

Yuuri’s father asks if he wouldn’t like some more boba.

Minako, wonderful Minako, sharpens a knife directly at Plisetsky in full view of the rest of the council. She smiles and sharpens and asks after Marina Shcheglova, and that’s not a name Yuuri is immediately familiar with, but its mention causes Plisetsky to choke on his red bean matcha slurry. Minako doesn’t like Viktor; she doesn’t trust him. But she’s threatening the newcomer for him and Yuuri is grateful.

“Don’t make this difficult,” Plisetsky splutters.

An elder opens his mouth to respond.

“You’re not taking him,” Yuuri interrupts. He’s not a member of the council. Technically he’s not supposed to speak at these things if he’s not asked a direct question and no one’s said anything to him since he arrived. He’s not a member of the council like his parents, like Minako, like Mari. He’s a mediocre hunter at best. He’s their _librarian_. He’s dating a corpse. He’s dating a corpse with no self-preservation instincts. He keeps talking because he clearly has no self-preservation instincts either. “So you should go.”

“I’m not leaving without it,” Plisetsky says. He hasn’t looked at Viktor once since Viktor tumbled through the front door ten minutes earlier, one of the triplets hanging from either arm and the third skipping merrily along behind. Sitting so stiffly in his chair, Plisetsky doesn’t need to physically turn and look for Yuuri to know just how much he hates the undead man behind him.

Yuuri doesn’t care. “Then you’re not leaving,” he says, intent and angry.

Predictably, the rest of the discussions don’t go very well.

—

After, Yuuri goes and hides in his library for a couple hours while Minako finds Plisetsky and Plisetsky’s apprentice somewhere to stay. She sends Yuuri a brief text (atta boy, _eggplant emoji, thumbs up, knife, knife, knife_ ) either because she’s busy with the foreign vampire hunters or because Yuuri jammed a chair under the door handle so no one could talk to him in person. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He wants to find out what Viktor did to Plisetsky so he can apologize in the right way and get Plisetsky to go away. He hides and he scans through a collection of journals he has identified to be about Viktor’s various exploits. He can’t look at his database because he left his computer at home next to his congealing cup noodles. And he can’t ask Viktor.

Viktor doesn’t remember.

Also, Yuuri isn’t talking to him right now, because Yuuri is in love with him and. Fuck. Yuuri is _in love_ with him.

Fuck.

Eventually he leaves the library. Hunger drives him out. Also, a text. MAKKACHIN MADE GRILLED FISH FOR US! SMARTEST DOG!!!, Viktor types in a combination of sloppy Japanese and outdated Bulgarian. Sometimes he does that, forgets to be easily understood. Except Yuuri can read more languages than Viktor can speak. Yuuri can understand him.

( _Heart, heart, heart, heart, dog face, heart._ )

Yuuri can _almost_ understand him.

He switches out the journals for the old codes, the agreements between the various hunter guilds and families. He slips them into protective covers and bundles them up in his jacket before he moves the chair and steps tentatively back out into the bubble tea shop.

He ignores the looks the person behind the register gives him. He recognizes him vaguely from childhood, but he doesn’t know him.

Yuuri hurries home.

—

True to his word, Plisetsky does not leave. Instead he shows up at BOBATOPIA every day, Yakov in tow, wearing his impressive scowl and a rotation of voluminous fur coats.

(“Most all of them are fake,” Yakov tells Yuuri one afternoon. “He has like eight cats in Moscow. He hates the fur trade. …So, like, how seriously would you say you’re dating the dead guy?”)

Somehow Yuuri gets used to him.

Probably because Viktor gets used to him first.

“Yuuri offered to fight for my honor?” Viktor asks Plisetsky one afternoon, eyes like stars.

The triplets are downstairs with Yuuko, practicing their marksmanship with the other guild children and a reluctant Yakov. Makkachin is sitting in the booth next to Viktor and across from Plisetsky. Yuuri needs to work, but he can’t leave Viktor and Plisetsky alone together, so he is sitting next to Plisetsky and trying to give off _we don’t violate health codes_ vibes at the same time. He must be successful because the shop is full of regular human customers despite the dog and dead body among them.

Jabbing his spoon into his mango pudding, Plisetsky cuts out a sharp, “not your honor, you fiend, _you_.”

“Yuuri offered to fight for my _body_?” Viktor asks, eyes like supernovas. He places a delicate hand over his heart-shaped mouth. Yuuri can see the silver burns on Viktor’s wrists when his lacy cuffs fall from the motion.

Plisetsky, in a moment of kindness, does not comment.

—

A month passes and one morning Yuuri wakes up and realizes that he _likes_ Yuri Plisetsky, who is a curmudgeon, but a kind one. Who helps train Rosary with her crossbow, who goes on hunts with Mari, who sits down with Yuuri and tells him, in Russian, that there are _live_ men out there, Katsuki, if that’s really what you’re looking for. It is awkward and terrible and Yuuri says no, no, he’s already in love, but thank you, and then it’s _worse_ , but Grandpa Yuri just grumbles something about accounting for taste and changes the subject to stake crafting. Grandpa Yuri has _strong_ feelings about the recent trend in mass production of cheap stakes for the stabbing of vampires.

Every hunter should know how to whittle their own stakes, Grandpa Yuri insists frequently, loudly, in public.

Viktor agrees – also loudly, also in public – because he is sentimental and an idiot. He thinks hand-carved stakes are more romantic. He says he’d rather be staked romantically if he had to be staked at all. He looks at Yuuri when he says so, and not even Yuuri is sure if he just means he wants Yuuri to fuck him.

Yuuri _has_ fucked him.

Yuuri has never slept next to him.

Yuuri is in love with him.

Grandpa Yuri is the first person Yuuri says those words to, _I’m in love with him_. He doesn’t realize it until after, after the well-worn tirade about stakes when Grandpa Yuri settles in to chewing an absent Yakov out about not smelting his own silver arrow tips.

When he does realize it Yuuri grabs the flask he keeps in his top desk drawer and drains it in one go.

—

Grandpa Yuri, that’s what they all call him. Yuri-ji.

Another month passes.

—

Yakov is fascinated by Viktor. He prods at Viktor’s floppy hats, at his silver hair, at his shoulders, until Yuuri intervenes by drawing Viktor bodily away. Yakov says Viktor is weird, for a vampire. Which, rude. But true. Viktor _is_ weird for a vampire. For one thing, Yuuri is attracted to him. Yuuri is attracted to a corpse that can’t tell the difference between centuries and who sends cutesy messages about his dog cooking, which dogs can’t do. Which corpses shouldn’t be able to do either, for that matter.

“So what’s it like sleeping with a vampire?”

Viktor is over bothering Takeshi at the counter, but he has supernatural monster hearing. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if he heard Yakov’s question. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if _every person at BOBATOPIA_ heard Yakov’s question. Yakov does not understand the concept of subtlety.

“I don’t sleep near Viktor,” Yuuri replies, ears burning. It’s true, if only for practical reasons. Yuuri might love Viktor, wildly, too much, never enough, but he’s not an idiot. Viktor is a vampire; vampires are dangerous. Yuuri doesn’t want to die.

Ergo, Yuuri will eat dinner at Viktor’s apartment and sit on Viktor’s couch and paint his throat with garlic butter and carry a plastic bag full of rice. He will sit on Viktor’s lap on that couch, wearing his garlic and his silver jewelry, and he will kiss his unnervingly cold boyfriend who never needs a break to breathe, who warms slowly by placing his hands underneath Yuuri’s sweater and stealing his heat, and he will kiss and touch and kiss until he feels himself beginning to nod and drift even as his fingers play with the short hair at the nape of his dead boyfriend’s neck.

Then he will sit back, wipe the saliva from the corners of his mouth, adjust himself in his pants, and leave.

“Our physical relationship is beautiful and pure,” Viktor singsongs to Takeshi, but loud enough that it’s really to Yakov.

“It had better be,” Mari says to all of them as she passes through carrying a box of silver daggers. But she’s caught Yuuri on his distracted, bleary-eyed walk of shame back across the hall to his own apartment more than once, so she knows it isn’t. It is, but it isn’t at all.

—

Grandpa Yuri never tells the guild the reason he chased Viktor all the way to Japan. Yakov doesn’t tell them either, in a rare display of deference to Grandpa Yuri’s wishes. Yuuko almost wheedles it out of him one afternoon by the sea, at a picnic with her family, but in the end all she has to show for it are the things the rest of them have already guessed: a long, long time ago Grandpa Yuri lost someone close. It’s not an uncommon story for a hunter to have.

“I know he’d be very sorry,” Yuuri says the next time he and Grandpa Yuri are alone in the library. “He’s different now.”

“Is he?” Grandpa Yuri scoffs.

Yuuri thinks back to that first day, to those first weeks, to the stories he’s pried out of Viktor in the dark, all approximate and all horrible. “He is,” Yuuri says softly. The difference is part of why Yuuri loves him.

Grandpa Yuri regards him and Yuuri can imagine him as he was so many years before, young and cocky, elaborately dressed and about to fail, badly, for the very first time. His face is craggy, now, weathered as much by his anger as by the years. His regrets weigh on him as much as the heavy fake fur coats he wears despite the summer heat. Or maybe that’s just Yuuri trying to understand something he never will. Maybe that’s just him trying to figure out what his future might look like if Viktor destroys his life too.

“He still doesn’t remember,” Grandpa Yuri says slowly. “And that is an insult to his memory I cannot bear.”

There’s nothing Yuuri can say to that, so he doesn’t.

That evening he invites Grandpa Yuri and Yakov over for soba. They have dessert at Viktor’s at Grandpa Yuri’s insistence. “You’re smart not to let him in here,” he says as they swap their slippers for shoes next to Yuuri’s coat closet. It comes with the heavy implication that Yuuri is less than smart for taking up with Viktor at all. That’s not untrue. “But I am not scared of him.”

“If you want a boyfriend you can take anywhere…,” Yakov offers, but he offers it under his breath. He’s stopped squinting so much at Yuuri. It might be because he, unlike his mentor, is scared of Viktor. It’s more likely that he’s scared of Mari.

Dessert is fruit topped with cream. While they eat, Viktor chatters about Makkachin’s day, and a recipe he wants to try, and a fish he saw a fisherman catch on the bridge.

Afterwards Yuuri takes their dishes to the kitchen to wash. If he doesn’t they will sit in the sink for days, developing a moldy crust over a layer of slime because Viktor only uses his kitchen when Yuuri comes over to eat. He never remembers how human food leaves behind residue that needs to be washed. It’s been a thousand years since he has needed to remember; in this, his forgetfulness is understandable.

Yuuri’s just setting the soap aside when he sees Yakov slink away down the corridor towards the bathroom. He realizes this means Viktor and Grandpa Yuri are alone together, possibly for the first time in forty years. He almost breaks a plate in his rush to get back to the dining area, but Viktor’s voice stops him at the edge of the kitchen, far enough back to remain unseen.

“Oh,” Viktor says. Yuuri can’t read his expression from his voice. “Oh. I completely forgot.”

Grandpa Yuri emits a gravelly sound that captures his disdain masterfully. Yuuri doesn’t hear his actual reply. He expects it isn’t very polite.

“I’m afraid you missed the window on my desire to die.”

“I’ve been saving this for you since 1973.”

Cloth rustles. Something clacks onto the tabletop. Yuuri quietly steps back and grabs a knife out of the block next to the microwave. He likes Grandpa Yuri. He likes him a lot. But, god. He _loves_ Viktor.

Viktor says something too quietly for Yuuri to hear.

The toilet flushes, down in the bathroom at the end of the corridor.

“For now,” Grandpa Yuri scratches out, voice thick, “we will keep waiting. But we will never forget.”

And then Yakov is in the corridor and Grandpa Yuri is too, then Viktor and Makkachin follow behind, and Yuuri is still holding onto the handle of the knife. He keeps hold of it as Grandpa Yuri sweeps past, grabs Yakov and leaves. He thinks he sees tears on Grandpa Yuri’s face. He definitely sees Yakov shoot a questioning glance at the knife.

Yuuri almost stabs Viktor on accident when he holds him in relief to the sound of the apartment door slamming shut, but Viktor is dead, so. He could handle a regular knife wound. He would have been fine if Yuuri had accidentally stabbed him. He’s going to be fine.

—

There’s hand-carved stake sitting on the dining table, Viktor’s name painstakingly whittled onto the end. Yuuri only sees it ten minutes later when he finally lets Viktor go.

—

Though they have two weeks left on their visas Grandpa Yuri and Yakov say their goodbyes at BOBATOPIA the next afternoon.

“Grandpa wants to see the rest of the country before we go back,” Yakov tells Yuuri’s mother in a near-convincing apology. “Saga is cool and stuff, but he wanted to see Kyoto too. And, like, the north bits. He said I have to go with him.”

They’re gone before evening falls.

Yuuri and Viktor see them off at the train station.

“He’ll be here again,” Viktor comments as they watch the red line train depart. He’s holding Makkachin’s leash in one hand and a grey satchel Grandpa Yuri shoved at him in the other. Yuuri wants to ask what’s in it. (He won’t.)

“I’m going to Nagoya for a conference in December,” Yuuri says.

“Hm?”

“Nagoya,” Yuuri repeats. He takes Makkachin’s leash and hooks his free arm around Viktor’s. “They want to discuss some of our French records. You should come with me.”

Viktor smiles back so brightly Yuuri can see it from behind the thick scarf he’s wearing to shield himself from the sun. He doesn’t have to cover himself completely in sunlight, for reasons Yuuri doesn’t yet understand, but the rash is unpleasant for him, and his whining about his sunlight rashes is unpleasant for everyone around him. So he wears unseasonable scarves.

Yuuri has a dead boyfriend who is allergic to the sun.

And, _god_.

Yuuri loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ++ the joke is are you an incubus BECAUSE I WOULD FUCK YOU UNTIL IT KILLED ME
> 
> ++ i kept the person viktor killed vague bc i couldn’t decide. i’ve got a bit of an idea now that i’ve written this out, but idk i don’t really want to have to follow through on it
> 
> ++ originally potya was going to be old man vampire hunter yuri’s assistant, but then i forgot to add her between all the terrible teenage yakov jokes sorry potya
> 
> ++ when yuri’s like hey yuuri you could date a live man they have those he’s not talking about yakov he is talking about himself
> 
> ++ while yakov is grandpa yuri’s assistant-slash-grandson-of-circumstance lilia is grandpa yuri’s actual facts granddaughter. probably they are on again off again and it drives yuri bonkers (he grudgingly loves them both don’t make him choose)
> 
> ++ how is this so long??? i don’t know how this got this long. i’m mad at me.


End file.
